Harry Potter and the Power of the Dark Side
by Faykan
Summary: Only the strong may rule, this was the way of the Dark Side, and Darth Millennial was about to prove to his master that he was worthy of the title Dark Lord of the Sith, but first a tremor in the Force draws him to the Unknown Regions of space... I do not own the picture
1. Prologue

******So, in the meantime between those lulls in my creative process for ANP, I've been writing out smaller side projects while my muse rests and prepares for another major writing session. This one is probably the most flushed out, even though it wasn't the first that I started with. Therefore: It will not update nearly as often as ANP will, although I will attempt to devote time to it as I can. Please Review, especially this soon in the story it will be most helpful with ideas.**

**Harry Potter **

**The Power of the Dark Side**

**Prologue**

**Flight of Foresight**

Darth Cognus, Dark Lord of the Sith, watched in disappointment as her apprentice's Sith Infiltrator sped away from the ruins of the Dark Force temple of Dromund Kaas. Instead of standing for what he claimed to have believed in, and fighting his master for the mantle of Sith Master, Darth Millennial had chosen to flee, abandoning his infant religion of the so-called 'Prophets of the Dark Side'. Darth Cognus had known of her apprentice's disagreements with the Rule of Two, but she had not expected the human mutant to actually break away from the Sith Order and form his own branch off of Dark Side users.

Cognus had, as soon as she heard of the insurrection, immediately come to Dromund Kaas and wiped out the pathetic Dark Jedi and fledgling Sith that her apprentice had started to train, her immense knowledge of the Dark Side and her twin crimson lightsabers making quick work of the far weaker followers of her wayward apprentice. She would have killed the three eyed human as well, but Darth Millennial had taken the opportunity caused by his supporters attempting to slay his master to flee to the hangar of the Dark Side temple he had claimed on the planet, and flee, jumping to hyperspace before Cognus could track him.

But it was of no consequence. Either Darth Millennial would return and finish what they started, the final conflict that would decide the new Sith Master, or he would disappear from the universe and Cognus would train a new apprentice in his place. No matter what, the Sith Order would survive, as it always had, and must, until the Jedi were defeated and the galaxy fell to their might. 'But still,' Darth Cognus thought as she returned to her shuttle, 'Millennial had so much potential for our Order, and such a gift with foresight.'

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Darth Millennial, Supreme Prophet of the Dark Side and apprentice to the Dark Lord of the Sith, breathed a small sigh of relief as the star lines of hyperspace surrounded his Infiltrator. Escaping from the tracking powers that his Iktotchi master possessed was not a simple task, and only his own mastery of the Dark Side was keeping him one step ahead of his master's wrath. Unbeknown to his master, however, it was more than mere cowardice that drove Millennial to postpone the final confrontation with Darth Cognus. No, the true reasons for Darth Millennial and his supposed departure from the true Sith Order were all part of an elaborate plan wrought by foresight and prophecy.

The Force was calling to Darth Millennial, urging him to seek out something, or someone, far away from the known aspects of the galaxy and deep in the unknown regions. Naturally, Millennial knew that Cognus would be overly suspicious if he just up and left to search out this call from the Dark Side, so he fabricated the false Dark Side religion to force his master to 'drive' him away to the destiny the Force was making for him. And now his plan was realized. The poor fools that thought he would give them unlimited power and knowledge of the Dark Side fell before his master's blades as he prepped his ship for his departure into the unknown.

Finally, as the call of the Dark Side spiked in his mind, he manually pulled out of Hyperspace, drifting through a small solar system, with only eight planets orbiting a bright golden sun. The Force was strong in the outer regions of the system, but the brightest pull to Darth Millennial, woven as part of his Sith trance, came from the third planet from the yellow star.

A provincial scan of the planet showed no technology close to what Millennial and his starship possessed, so he activated the ship's cloaking devise and followed the Force down onto the planet, finally settling down his craft in a grove of trees, departing what appeared to be a park, and shrouding himself in the power of the Dark Side, Darth Millennial searched for his new apprentice. The trail of darkness led Darth Millennial to a set of dwellings that all appeared completely identical as they stretched along a paved roadway. The Force was only truly present around the fourth house away from Millennial.

Approaching the residence, the Sith Lord felt a powerful wave of energy, not the Force, but something else. It was almost like a shield surrounding the house in a glowing light, preventing the Dark Lord from entering the property. Irritated, Millennial began to probe the foreign presence with the Dark Side, looking for any weaknesses or deficiency in the ward to grant him access. It was completely baffling; the shield had no flaws, and rejected every attempt the Sith Lord made to gauge the power of the barrier withholding his future apprentice from him.

Snarling in anger, Millennial switched tactics. Thrusting out his hands, the three eyed mutant dove into the power of the Dark Side and sent waves of it washing over the shield, striving to overpower it with brute strength. Against the power of a Dark Lord of the Sith, this primitive shield was no match, which was clearly proven as it shattered, granting Darth Millennial entry at last.


	2. Chapter 1

**So, doing something I had not planned to do, and updating before the next chapter is finished, but I'm confident that it will be finished soon enough; with all the ideas and inspiration I got for it over the last 3 weeks. Anyway, thanks a lot for your patience and special gratitude to those who reviewed the prologue! Please keep up the reviews!**

**Chapter One**

**Passing of Power**

Harry winced as massive pain shot through his head, causing him to drop the dish he was cleaning. It shattered with a resounding crash on the clean floor, immediately attracting the attention of his Aunt and Uncle. "BOY!" Vernon roared, stomping towards him, his fists raised. The four year old knew what was coming before it happened, but it stopped nothing as the massive hand collided with the side of his face. Crumpling to the floor, Harry's head spun wildly, but he refused to cry out. That would only incite his uncle more.

"HOW DARE YOU BREAK OUR DISHES, YOU INGRATEFUL FREAK!" Vernon screamed in his face, before settling down to pummel Harry's body. Harry bit his tongue and withstood the pain, refusing to show emotion even when he felt and heard the crack of ribs. This was by far the worst beating he had had in his life, and there was nothing he could do about it.

'Someone please help me,' Harry thought desperately.

Suddenly there was a new voice in the room, speaking eerily calm for the scene Harry knew must be in front of him, "Might I inquire as to why you feel brutalizing this child is required?…"

Harry looked blearily through his eyes, swimming in pain, up at his rescuer. The tall man had a short graying beard and piercing blue eyes, and some sort of mark on his forehead, nearly covered by his large hood. The last thing Harry registered in slight horror before passing out was that it was a third eye, with a deep red orange hue to it.

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Millennial looked at the scene with cold calculation. The fat human was beating a tiny child without mercy for, apparently, the tiny accident of breaking a dish. As a Sith, Millennial approved of severe punishment for mistakes, but this was completely unnecessary. This was pure rage without purpose, being venting on the weak without rational reasoning. Thankfully the boy lost consciousness, so he wouldn't be further broken from what Millennial was about to show to his tormentors, the full power of a Sith Lord.

"Who in the bloody hell are you, barging into MY house?!" the fat one bellowed, fists balling up and the veins of his neck bulging as he swung to glare at the Sith Lord. "Who do you think you are?"

"A far more powerful being than you," Millennial replied, meeting the madman's eyes, "now, **BE SILENT!**"

The man froze, terror and the Force holding him in place and stilling his incessant tongue as Millennial swept past him, into the room. Unfamiliar machines lined the walls, but the Sith Lord paid them no mind, his focus completely on the immobilized man and woman who cowered before his presence.

Millennial calculated his options. He could kill these fools and take the boy now, but that would alert whoever placed the shield over the house of something being wrong, or he could make it so that the boy wouldn't be missed while he took him…

He chose, and dominating the minds of the two weak humans before him, he erased his visit from their minds and made it so that they wouldn't notice or miss the small boy for a good long time, or until Millennial himself removed it. The Sith lord figured that whoever placed the shield, as it couldn't have been either of the two weak creatures before him, wouldn't be fooled forever with the boy's disappearance, so he intended to return after his master was dealt with and see about trying up the loose ends of his apprentice's past as well as beginning his training in the ways of the Dark Side.

Leaving the man and woman in their state of stupor, Darth Millennial lifted the small boy into his arms and began the short trek back to his Infiltrator, depositing the boy in the medical center before taking off, setting a course back to Dromund Kaas. After setting them into hyperspace, he returned to the medbay to find to his surprise that the boy had regained consciousness, and was in intense pain from his wounds.

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Harry awoke in considerable agony, startled by the sounds of someone above him, but unable to see clearly to determine who exactly was there. "My my, you took some damage, didn't you, little one?" said the oddly computerized voice as a needle pierced him in the arm. Harry moaned slightly at the sharp pain, and immediate burning as something was pumped into him. "Oh, you're awake… well, this will help with the pain, somewhat. I'm not programmed to give too much in the way of anesthetic but in your case, Master Millennial gave an exception. Hold still if you can, this will hurt considerably more if you struggle…"

Finally, after several agonizing minutes of silence, Harry's eyes finally cleared, allowing him to look up and see… a metallic silver person? No… Harry blinked several times, it wasn't a person, but some sort of robot, small and floating above Harry as it maneuvered around, checking this and that part of Harry's body, holding a multitude of items in its six different hands. Eventually, the little robot floated away, out of Harry's line of sight.

"Master, the boy is completely healthy, and the sedative will wear off in the next two point seven six seconds."

A new voice that Harry recognized answered, "Thank you Geeaych-Seven, you may return to your usual duties."

Craning his neck as best he could, Harry saw the same man he had seen at the Dursleys. The same third eye gleamed red against the steel-white of the room. The man glanced at him as the robot floated away, before striding over to Harry, black robes billowing around him with an aura of menacing power. Sitting in a chair across from Harry, the man motioned for him to sit up, and as Harry did so, the bed conformed and bent into a form fitting chair, supporting him completely as he righted himself.

"So," Harry started hesitantly, "I take it you… um… rescued me from Uncle Vernon and took me to the hospital?"

The man watched Harry for several uncomfortable seconds, before finally speaking, "In a manner of speaking, yes. I took you from their clutches, and brought you here yes, but this is not a _hospital_," the man seemed to momentarily struggle with the word before continuing, "it's my starship."

Harry gaped at the man. "No…way…" was all he could get out of his mouth. He started looking around again slowly, focusing on the smaller details. The large computer-like panels and monitors on the walls, the robot, and finally the small sealed window high on the far wall that displayed a strange series of bright lines flowing out of view.

"_Entering Dromund system, exiting hyperspace_," an oddly feminine robotic voice announced from somewhere far overhead. Harry jumped up and dashed over to the window, ignoring the slight pain and tightness in his muscles. He watched wide eyed as the lines of light slowed and turned into stars. Into view came a large blue-green planet that was definitely NOT Earth. "…incredible…" Harry breathed, turning back to face the man who had taken him away from the Dursleys. That's when it hit him: he was free from the Dursleys, forever. Gone were the days he had to skirt around the fat lazy whale men and the spiteful shrieking woman, he was able to do as he pleased, even… dare he think of it, take revenge on them.

Standing there, dazed by the prospects of his newfound freedom, Harry noticed that the older man was smiling just as wickedly as he was thinking up ways to torment the Dursleys back for the years of cruelty. "Yes boy…let the hate flow through you…" Harry did, seeing no reason not to, letting all the rage against his relatives boil beneath his skin. Before he knew it, small objects were floating around him, as if held by wires. Harry was so shocked that he lost his train of thought and the objects clattered to the floor again. But the other man, Millennial, if Harry's memory of what the robot had said was correct, only smiled wider. "_Good_…" he said, drawing out the word, and Harry could feel some sort of power behind it, "the Force is strong with you, Harry Potter…you will become a powerful Sith, whatever master is left to train you."

"Err, what?" Harry asked, finally returning to the present and registering what the man was saying, "Force? Sith? Left to train me?" he said, trying to wrap his mind around what was going on.

"_Approaching Dromund Kaas_…" the computer voice announced again.

"We haven't much time, and therefore I can only explain so much, young one," Millennial said, eyes darting to the window as the planet grew closer, "but the Force is a power source that radiates off of all things, both living and nonliving. The Sith are one of the many organizations of beings that can wield the powers of the Force to their own ends…"

"Beings? You mean there are things out there other than humans?" Harry interrupted.

Millennial regarded Harry coldly, "Normally I do not permit others to interrupt when I am talking, consider yourself warned…"

Harry froze himself from the next round of questions. Had he forgotten so soon that this man was clearly something dangerous, if he was able to overcome the wrath of Vernon Dursley. "I…sorry…"

"As I was saying," Millennial continued, "the Sith, of which I am a member, one of the only two in existence, survive in secrecy from the rest of the galaxy. We are in a tricky stage of pulling strings and shadows to increase our power, while those who would destroy us for merely being different wallow in their glory at having _defeated _us for all time. To ensure that only the strong will lead, only two Sith Lords exist at a time: a master and an apprentice. The time has come for myself and my Master, Darth Cognus, to determine, in a fight to the death, whether I am ready to take the mantle of Master of the Sith Order. However, no matter the outcome, you will have a master to train you in the ways of the Dark Side of the Force. And yes, there are more creatures out there than humans. My master, as an example, is an Iktotchi, a strong race in the Force with a powerful gift of precognition, or limited foresight."

"Oh…" Harry said, struggling to absorb the information. "But, isn't something called the 'Dark Side' of anything… well… evil?"

"Evil is a word used by the ignorant and the weak. The Dark Side is about survival. It's about unleashing your inner power. It glorifies the strength of the individual." Millennial said flatly, and Harry was forced to mull it over himself what that meant. If what he was being told was true, then everything Harry dreamed about was a real possibility.

"I can sense your fear young Potter, fear of what you do not understand, fear of what may happen. But I **know**what will happen when you accept our teachings. You will grow powerful, and all who oppose you will fall at you feet," The Sith Master said, "for this is the way of the Sith. Passion to Power, Power to Strength, Strength to Victory, Victory to Freedom, all wrought by the Dark Side of the Force…"

Harry saw no better choice. He was who-knew how far away from Earth, and had no purpose in life. 'After all, why not,' Harry thought, his own smirk returning. "Then… what must I do to become a Sith?"

The smile on the three eyed man's face also returned, "So, will you of your own free will pledge yourself to the Order of the Sith Lords, Harry Potter?" he said, rising and walking to stand in front of Harry. Inspired by the close proximity to the Sith Lord, Harry knelt before the mutant human, "I pledge myself to your teachings… Master."

"Good…"Millennial practically purred, "You shall be known forevermore as Darth… Veneficus… rise, Sith apprentice."

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The newly christened Darth Veneficus rose, and following Millennial out of the medical bay and up to the enlarged cockpit, watched with unconstrained enthusiasm as the Sith Lord steered the ship to rest atop the colossal temple in the center of the swamps of Dromund Kaas.

"I'm warning you now, Veneficus," Millennial said, gathering himself and preparing for the upcoming confrontation, "this is a fight between me and my master alone. Any interference, and either of us will cut you down without a second thought." The young acolyte nodded, his face set and grave. Millennial knew the potential that existed in the boy for great power, but his nature must be tamed and purged of all inborn compassion if he was to fully embrace the Dark Side.

Knowing that he or Cognus would have no difficulty in breaking the boy from his innocent and detrimental ways, he grabbed the last two items he required to face his master before heading to the boarding ramp. The first was his Lightsaber, the gleaming black handle sporting an elegant curve to alter the trajectory of any swing or stab. The second item was an unusual item that Millennial had only recently mastered using: a Lightwhip. Similar in style and functionality to the saber, the Lightwhip projected a flexible energy beam that could prove quite unpredictable to the unwary opponent.

Clipping the two weapons to his belt, the Lightwhip out of sight for a surprise use, Millennial and Veneficus departed the ship to where Darth Cognus was awaiting them, most likely having sensed them both long before they physically arrived.

Stopping well away from his master, Millennial stood in silence as Cognus regarded the young boy. "So, you've brought an apprentice and returned to finish your training…" the Iktotchi Sith Lord said calmly, despite Millennial feeling her power start to build. "I have," he replied smoothly. Pointing to the boy he continued, "This is Darth Veneficus, who shall become the apprentice of the victor, thus continuing the line set forth by Darth Bane and his Rule of Two."

"So you never truly gave up the Order of the Sith, even with your small _rebellions_…"Cognus hissed, her hands slowly moving toward her dual sabers. Millennial knew that the conflict would begin as soon as she had the answers she desired, which was if he was indeed true to the codes of the Sith that he had been trained to.

"I did not, even during my rule as Supreme Prophet. The Dark Force religion was a mere ploy to confuse and distract you while I sought out the perfect apprentice." Millennial answered, drawing the curved saber and igniting the crimson blade. Darth Cognus didn't disappoint, having leaped and ignited her dual sabers as the answer was given. The first clash of sabers was given as she landed, trying to overpower Millennial's defenses and slam both her blades into his head.

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Harry couldn't believe his eyes as the two Sith Lords dueled. Their hands were nearly blurs as they maneuvered back and forth across the top of ruined building, sometimes flinging hands at each other to blast their opponent with blue-white electricity or waves of pure power. All the hair on the young boy's body was standing on end at the display of true supremacy of their abilities. Cold sensations traveled down his body at the thought that he was promised to learn this very power, and small wicked thoughts crept back into his mind as he watched the conflict.

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Cognus wasn't surprised at her apprentice's defensive tactics. The three eyed mutant always had leaned toward the third form of lightsaber combat, Soresu, and to counter Cognus chose to simply overwhelm Millennial with her Battle Master techniques and dual sabers, chaining strikes that constantly varied in target. Head, leg, arm, torso, other leg, back to head. Yet her apprentice doggedly kept blocking her attacks, not even trying to make an opening for any sort of offensive.

Cognus drove Millennial backward, straining to keep him off balance as she pressed the attack, twisting and turning to steer her apprentice in the direction she wanted, toward the edge of the temple. Suddenly, Millennial jumped back from one of her attacks, rolling backward to put space between them, at the same time throwing his lightsaber at her.

The crimson blade came in a spinning arc aimed to decapitate her, but it was easily batted away by one of her sabers, and she prepared to leap upon her now foolishly disarmed opponent. Only the Force saved her, the time between the snap hiss of another weapon and the new beam of energy clashing with her hastily raised defense split by mere moments. Then was when Cognus realized something was wrong. The new weapon's energy beam was coiled around one of her sabers, tracing a direct line back to her apprentice. A Lightwhip, Cognus recognized as Millennial wrenched her weapon away, sending it clattering off the side of the temple.

Now it was Cognus that was on the defensive, trying to dodge and weave around the dancing strand of deadly energy, trying not to block or parry for fear of losing her remaining weapon. She had to admit that Millennial had been ingenious to create and master the rare and difficult weapon, as well as keep this advantage hidden until he could most utilize it.

Another lash came in, and Cognus couldn't dodge fast enough, the red energy gashing and cauterizing her left leg. Refusing to cry out Cognus rolled away on her good leg, coming up again and ducking a follow-up to her head. Only the Dark Side was keeping her from falling to the ground now, the pain fueling her rage to stay upright and move. Another strike, and finally Cognus was forced to block, struggling to maintain her balance and control of her weapon as the Lightwhip wrapped about the other blade.

Losing her last weapon was not an option, so Cognus reached out with the Dark Side, throwing bolts of lightning at Millennial, distracting him enough to yank her weapon, along with the Lightwhip, away, then spinning and leaping back to the fray. Millennial had at some point recovered his curved saber, and met her attack head on, deflecting and counter attacking Cognus as she landed. The mutant seemed to dance and he spun and struck, alternating from many quick one handed strikes to a handful of powerful two handed swings. Cognus recognized that her apprentice had not sacrificed his Lightsaber skills in the process of mastering the Lightwhip, and had added the second form of saber combat, Makashi, to his repertoire of knowledge. The dueling form greatly complimented his original defensive form, and was further augmented by his curved saber into a purposely deadly combination.

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Millennial knew he had gained the upper hand, spinning and striking at Cognus' saber arm before backing off, feinting and stabbing to her torso. Both the surprise of the Lightwhip and his switching to the aggressive Makashi had thrown his master into slight disarray, not having expected this deception and brutality from him, but she was quickly adapting to the change. He had to end it quickly before she regained the offensive.

Lashing out with the Dark Side, Millennial started eating away at Darth Cognus, draining and devouring her life energy, while simultaneously disrupting her connection to the Force, a technique she herself had taught him. The reaction was immediate. Cognus cried out in rage, trying to lash back with lightning, but it was growing steadily feebler with the combination of distractions and Millennial's attacks. A wave of Force power erupted from her, but merely knocked Millennial back a step, allowing him to twist and come back at a different angle, slicing the Iktotchi across the upper arm, sending her Lightsaber falling to the ground.

Unfortunately, Cognus wasn't finished yet, using the Force to snatch the saber back and suspending it in the air, reactivating it and sending it back at Millennial, while sending off new waves of lightning. Millennial caught the lightning, absorbing it with his saber, while throwing out a hand, engaging Cognus is a duel of willpower over control of her saber. Slowly, the saber was still coming at Millennial, and it took all his concentration to keep the lightning away and continue struggling with the saber.

Making another quick decision, Millennial focused all his will on the floating saber, dropping his defenses to the bolts of electric power. Pain shot through him, but only for mere moments. Cognus dropped to the ground, impaled through the chest by her own lightsaber.

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Harry watched as his new master recovered the fallen weapons, including the one from Darth Cognus' body. The smell of ozone was heavy on the three eyed human's robes, but otherwise he was relatively unharmed. Millennial held out Cognus' lightsaber to Harry, "In time you will build your own lightsaber, but for the time being, you may use Darth Cognus'. Now come Darth Veneficus, we have many things to do and time is of the essence.

Harry followed in silence as they boarded his master's starship and flew away from the murky world and into Harry's new destiny.


	3. Chapter 2

**Well, here is it, the last chapter of Power of the Dark Side posted before my birthday on the 11th... now you know what the best gift would be, right? That's right, Fan art on my deviantart profile... but I'll settle for lots of reviews for this and my other stories that I update just before my birthday on Thursday. So please, show your appreciation! Review!**

Chapter Two

An Interesting Development

July 24th, 1991. Seven Years Later…

Darth Veneficus ducked, twisting to slash at the lightsaber training droid he was facing early this morning. Springing to flip over the droid, the eleven year old Sith apprentice stabbed, pouring his rage and hatred into the strike, snapping back and reorienting himself to counter attacked when his crimson blade was parried. The droid was completely void of personality, simply built and instructed to attempt to kill the young boy with the yellow lightsaber it was constructed with, while Veneficus struggled to combine the raw fury of Juyo with the mobility and fluidity of Ataru.

Another leapt into the air, and Veneficus kicked the droid in the head, slashing its Lightsaber arm at the same time, severing the limb completely and knocked the armless body to the ground. Defeated, the droid simply powered down, and the whirring and sparking of the mechanical body growing silent as the semblance of life left it. Shutting down his saber, the young Sith left the enclosed courtyard, walking toward the entrance of Darth Millennial's secluded manor in the city of Great Hangleton, owned completely legally under the Sith Lord's disguise of Alexandre Blackmoore, a wealthy and reclusive noble from a conveniently extinct line of British lords, and Veneficus was his adopted heir, Galen Malkaris.

At first Veneficus was rather resentful of them returning to Earth, especially after Millennial showed him some of the wonders of the greater portion of the galaxy, but this was far better in the end for them both. As Millennial couldn't go out and about too much for fear of drawing unwanted attention, the young boy was sent out often to act as a go between his master and those whom they dealt with, allowing Veneficus to learn to adopt personas and manipulate others with supreme ease.

Once inside the spacious manor, Veneficus quickly headed to his small quarter and toweled off, changing out of his soaked training garments and into a light tunic and trousers before heading for the library and his master's study. He had fallen into a kind of routine between being sent out to do his master's bidding, consisting of studying, training and learning all he could about the Earth and the galaxy at large.

This particular morning, however, Veneficus entered the library to find his master staring at a giant barn owl that had apparently flown into the room. The three eyed mutant glanced at him as he entered, then gestured at the bird, "It has a letter for you, my apprentice, under your old name…"

Veneficus froze, confused out of his mind. They had done everything to erase all knowledge of the boy Harry Potter from the world, Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursley becoming the first three murders of Darth Veneficus, initiating him officially as a Sith Lord and an heir to the legacy of the Darth Bane. But there the letter was, shining green ink clearly writing out the name that they had supposedly blotted out of existence.

_Mr. H. Potter_

_The Largest Guest Room_

_Blackmoore Manor_

_Great Hangleton_

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, with no stamp. Turning the envelope over, and the Force steadying his nerves, Darth Veneficus saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H. Ripping the envelope open, the young Sith unfolded the letter, written on the same yellowish parchment.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. _

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. A representative will arrive after we receive your response to guide you in collecting your books and equipment._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Veneficus glanced at his master, one eyebrow raised, "Is this some sort of sick joke?"

Millennial just kept staring at him in silence, slight amusement on his face mixed with his typical analytical gaze. Veneficus used the Force to send the letter over to his master to read while he wracked his mind to figure out how this could have happened, who could know his past that they hadn't dealt with?

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Darth Millennial waited after he quickly read the letter for his apprentice to regain his composure. Darth Millennial had taken the past years on the backwater planet to familiarize himself with many of the languages of this planet as well as cultural and historical information so that he could blend into the world and vanish if necessary. Millennial did not expect Jedi or anyone who may threaten the Sith Order to come this far into the Unknown Regions, but paranoia had saved him before in the past.

Meanwhile he had fervently trained his apprentice, and was impressed with how well Veneficus progressed. He had taken to the lightsaber he had acquired from Darth Cognus like a fish to water, mastering the different concepts and maneuvers with ease. What the boy lacked in strength he made up for in speed and ferocity. Darth Millennial only saw that the boy lacked a certain amount in his defensive skills, but if the boy was worth the time he was being given, he would realize this fact soon enough and correct it.

The boy finally stopped his frustrated blustering and spoke rationally, "So, what do we do about this?"

Returning to the moment, Darth Millennial met his apprentice's eyes, "I see no problem in allowing this... representative... to come. If anything we can learn who knows about your past and eliminate them if necessary, or use them if they have anything of value to offer. I suggest you respond and allow this bird to return the message to this McGonagall person…"

"Very well master…"Veneficus replied, and left to compose the response, the owl taking off to follow. Millennial was left alone in the library, and he too decided to depart the room, his studies driven from his mind for the moment. The mutant made his way to his private study, and opened the door with the subtle touch of the Force, revealing the cache of Sith Holocrons and manuscripts that had been gathered or created by all the Sith Masters since the time of Darth Bane.

The power of the Dark Side was always strong here, and Millennial only occasionally allowed his apprentice to enter, and only for brief periods of time, as they boy would not be able to resist the temptation the massive amount of knowledge posed. Not that Millennial blamed the boy, but he was simply not ready yet for most of the secrets that the study held. Millennial sat in his high back leather chair and slipped into a meditative trance, pondering on the letter his apprentice had mysteriously received.

Sinking into the ebbs and flows of the Force, Darth Millennial surrendered to the visions that flew through his mind. Prominently feature in the mass of potential future events that swam in his conciseness was a very old man, with white hair and a long beard, wearing the most ridicules robes that Millennial had ever seen. Worst still, the old man felt like a Jedi, yet radiated that same strange power that had held the shield protecting his apprentice all those years ago. A dangerous foe indeed if Millennial knew anything from his many times of looking into the future. All the other figures he saw seemed to pale in comparison to the threat to the Sith Order that that man was, and Millennial knew if they ever encountered this man, he and Veneficus must tread carefully to destroy him without exposing themselves.

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Veneficus tried to put the mysterious owl and its letter out of mind for the next week, but inevitably the thought would intrude in his meditations and studies. He would not allow anything to break his concentration during his lightsaber training, as that would mean mortal peril, and he therefore spent a lot of time drilling sequences over and over, or sparring with a droid or Master Millennial to keep the irritating thought from his mind. He was still far from perfecting his hybrid form, but Millennial was clearly impressed with his progress, even if the three eyed human did not express it.

Veneficus was studying a small datapad on the rise of Darth Bane when the unknown representative arrived, knocking on the large oaken door. Millennial was busy in the library, and Veneficus thought it may have something to do with disguising his rather noticeable third eye from the visitor, so the younger sith stowed his datapad away and answered the door, using the Force to cover the more obvious effects of the Dark Side from his body. It was a simple task; having been one of the first things his master had drilled into him before allowing him to venture out of the manor to perform missions for Millennial.

Opening the door slowly, Veneficus saw a greasy haired, pale man standing there in a flowing black cloak, not too dissimilar from the ones that he and Millennial wore when they were on out in the more remote parts of the galaxy. The man looked down his hooked nose at Veneficus with a barely restrained sneer before speaking, "Harry Potter, I presume…" he said in a bored voice.

"And if I am?" Veneficus replied, not liking this person immediately, and finding it difficult to conceal his displeasure.

The man didn't answer, but continued after a short pause, "I am here to speak with you and your guardians about your Hogwarts letter and acquiring you supplies for September the first…"

Veneficus checked his senses in the Force about the man. He seemed unarmed and to be telling the truth, so he opened the door wider to admit him. "My guardian, Lord Blackmoore is in the library, I'll show you to him, if you'll follow me…" he purposely let the sentence hang, tempting the man to fill in his name. The man did not, but simply followed Veneficus to the library, where they knocked softly on the door.

"Enter," came the voice of Millennial from within, and Veneficus stepped aside to let the man enter before him.

Darth Millennial sat in his usual chair before the large desk, several books propped open before him. Veneficus could sense the Dark Side concealing the obvious unusualness of his master, and he was not surprised that the unknown man did not even notice.

"Greetings, Sir," the man said in a neutral voice, "I am Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts, and the representative who has been _asked_," he drew the word out with mild sarcasm, "to guide young Mr. Potter in his introduction to the magical world."

"I see," Millennial responded, equally neutral, "And we are to exactly believe what this letter," he held up the letting addressed to Harry Potter, "states about a school of… _magic_?"

"Yes, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is not some joke meant to rob people of money and time, but is indeed a school of magic, which does exist…"Professor Snape said, clearly used to answering the question.

"You don't mind me harboring some disbelief to this, as it is a rather hard concept to accept…" Millennial said offhandedly, playing the character of a skeptic majestically.

"Understandable, most muggles, or non magical folk, don't really understand the concepts of magic, and Mr. Potter's case is definitely not _unique_," he again drew the word out, "but if you allow a small demonstration, I can validate what Hogwarts claims."

Millennial nodded, and Snape drew a long stick from his robe pocket, pointing it at one of the other library chairs, muttering what sounded like Latin and causing the chair to transform with a loud popping sound into a fully grown pig, and back again with another series of words. Veneficus was impressed, but also upset that he did not find or realize that the man had been armed the entire time.

"Impressive," Millennial said, continuing to play his part, "I only wonder where and how we are to get the necessary things for Harry to attend your prestigious school… one doesn't simply walk into London and find a store with magic books." He added with an amused smile.

"I am available to take Mr. Potter, and yourself if you desire to accompany us, to the place where you will find everything you need to attend your seven years at Hogwarts, and money will not be a problem in this case," he added, as if to forestall a question that Veneficus knew Millennial wouldn't have asked, "Mr. Potter has a small fortune left from his parents, set aside specifically for his use in schooling, before they died."

"Well," Millennial said, standing and offering his hand to Snape, "I can't say I have any objections, and as Mr. Harry Potter's guardian, I officially grant him permission to attend Hogwarts."

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Severus couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something felt off about Harry Potter and his guardian, who were following Severus as he led them to the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron after arriving in London via the Knight Bus to London. There was some sort of unnatural coldness to the boy, and his face was paler than Severus', like he never had seen sunlight in his life. They were both well toned, if their tailored suits gave any indication, and Severus couldn't shake the uneasiness he felt whenever Lord Blackmoore's eyes met his, as if there was something he was missing. And then there was the eerie calmness in which they both accepted what Severus explained to them about the Magical world. It was unnerving to say the least, but Dumbledore had ordered him to escort Harry bloody Potter around Diagon Alley for an afternoon, and Severus really had no choice in the matter.

At least the reaction of Harry Potter entering the Leaky Cauldron entertained Severus somewhat, as the entire bar seemed to spring on him, shaking his hand and bowing to him. Eventually Lord Blackmoore cleared his throat loudly and everyone looked toward the intimidating man. "As much as young Harry may enjoy your fawning attention…" the man said coldly, eyes glinting like ice, "We have important business to take care of, and you are all holding us up, now… clear away and let us pass."

It was a tone unlike anything Severus heard before, commanding with an extra edge that cut like a razor. The crowd dispersed, opening the way to the back door and out into Diagon Alley. Severus activated the gateway, before guiding them in silence through the throng of shoppers toward the marble building of Gringotts bank. The goblins scrutinized the key to the Potter inheritance vault that Severus has given them for a long while before taking the three humans down to the subterranean cache of gold set aside specifically for Harry Potter's time at school.

The boy looked pointedly at his guardian when the door was opened, as if silently asking permission to enter and take a portion of his gold, and apparently received an answer, because Severus saw no change in the disturbing man's pale face as the boy piled fistfuls of gold into a leather pouch supplied by the goblin who had led them down.

Back on the surface, Lord Blackmoore turned to Severus. "So, now that we know where to go and how to access my ward's wizarding funds, may we be left to our own devises as we explore this _interesting _marketplace?"

"As much as I'd love to grant that request," Severus replied moodily, "I have strict orders to, at minimum, escort Mr. Potter to Ollivanders to obtain his wand, at which time I will no longer be responsible for guiding him, and may leave you to your own devises…"

Potter frowned, but Lord Blackmoore simply smiled passively, "Well, perhaps that should be our first purchase, so that you may depart with the most possible haste…"

Severus grunted, and turned toward the crowded mass of bodies in the narrow street, heading for Ollivanders.

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Millennial declined the invitation to enter the wand shop, opting to wander for a short while and gain his bearings in the foreign market. The pallor skinned Snape was indeed an unpleasant man, clearly prejudiced against Veneficus for reasons unknown, but Millennial decided that was for the boy to find out in his own time and manner.

As the Dark Lord walked down the crowded street, masking himself with the power of the Force and casting a shroud of unobtrusiveness around himself so that others gave him no second thought, he felt drawn to a particular side street off Diagon Alley. The street veered off into a darkened avenue between a pair of large buildings, and the Sith Lord could see several unsavory persons lurking out of natural sight. The sign nearby read '_Knockturn Alley_' and Millennial felt the scant trace of the raw Dark Side somewhere in its depths.

Suddenly, a powerfully built blond man drew the mutant Sith Lord's gaze, walking with a gate of self importance and being trailed by an almost miniaturized version of the same said man, clearly the man's offspring. The pair was heading directly for the same street that Millennial was observing. Quietly, the Dark Lord trailed after the father and son, listening in on their short conversation when the boy complained about some childish fancy.

"Not now Draco…" the parent said sternly, staring the boy down and pausing in his stride, "I have important business at Borgin and Burkes before we can do any shopping, and anyway we're coming back in a few weeks when your mother is available to acquire your school supplies…"

"But Father, I…" the boy interrupted, but with another cold glare the boy froze under his father's domineering gaze, "Yes, Father." The boy finally said.

Just at that time, Snape and Veneficus returned, and unmasking his presence, the elder blond-haired man glanced in their direction. Clearly recognizing Snape, he changed directions and headed over, his son obediently in tow.

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Draco smiled as Lucius led him to his godfather, Severus Snape. The happiness of getting to speak with his beloved godfather was abated by the Potion Master's company. The younger of the two was clearly Draco's age, but he and the older man had something… off… about them. They were both pale, whiter even that Severus, and they had a wary, untrusting sort of look about them, as if they expected to be attacked at a moment's notice.

"Ah, Severus, how unexpected to see you today," Draco's father drawled casually as they approached. "I was under the impression you weren't to be a Diagon until later this week…"

Severus clearly did not look like he was enjoying the company of the other two Draco noticed, and eagerly engaged Lucius in conversation, "Ah Lucius, yes I had planned that, but Dumbledore has appointed for me to help guide young Harry Potter around Diagon Alley today, with his guardian…"

The older man did not acknowledge Severus introducing him, but Draco was too busy gaping at the boy to notice. Under the long fringe of messy black hair was indeed the jagged scar that marked the Boy-who-lived. Draco was impressed, somewhat. The boy clearly did not know who he or his father was, and neither did it seem had his guardian. They just stood in silence, eyeing Draco and his father until Lucius held out a congenial hand to the elder of the pair. "Lucius Malfoy," he said coolly, and the other man took it briskly in return.

"Alexandre Blackmoore…" he replied, an icy tint to his voice, as though he was above such pleasantries.

"Blackmoore?" Lucius said, slightly confused, "As in the Pureblood family Blackmoore that was completely killed off during the war with Grindlewald?"

Neither Potter nor his guardian reacted to the veiled accusation. "Some… ah, rumors were greatly encouraged to hide our family from the ravages of war…"Lord Blackmoore replied, smirking slightly as Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Well," Lucius said, growing uneasy, "We have some business to attend to, so we must beg your pardon at our abrupt departure. Perhaps I'll send you an owl to formally engage correspondence with you and yours Lord Blackmoore. Good day Severus, Mr. Potter…" and with that the Malfoy patriarch retreated, not so softly pulling Draco in tow as they went down Knockturn Ally.

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Millennial watched as father and son Malfoy retreated into the gloom of the side alley, leaving only Snape to disturb them. "Well, Professor, Harry has acquired his wand, and as that was all you needed to oversee, you are free to depart as well."

"That I am…" Snape replied, but the Dark Lord felt through the Force that the man wasn't truthful, and was under orders to oversee their entire journey through the wizarding market. That was unacceptable, so Millennial pushed out lightly with the Force, touching the mind of the potions Master with an edge of dominion as he spoke, "You presence is no longer required, and you will return to your home, not remembering the specifics of your visit with us."

Not bothering to answer, Snape turned and left, heading for the entrance to the main part of the alley, disappearing through to the dingy bar where they had entered.

"Now that he's dealt with…" Millennial said as Veneficus grinned, "We can investigate this place to our own satisfaction. But first, something the other man, Malfoy said has me concerned, and we need to investigate back at Gringotts…"

"Of course Master…" Veneficus said, following dutifully as the Sith Master led the way back to the white marble building.

Once inside, Millennial found an unoccupied Goblin and strode up to the high desk, "May I help you sir?" the goblin said irritably and the Sith Lord smiled slightly before replying, "Alexandre Blackmoore, I'd like to access the records of my family's vault, as well as check on the assets of my ward and heir Harry Potter."

The goblin frowned, but beckoned the pair of them and led them to one of the back offices. Opening the door for them, the goblin announced, "Nagnok is the representative in charge of the vaults in question, he will be more than able to assist in anything you wish to do today…" and with that, the goblin simply walked away.

"Enter," came a goblin voice from within, and Millennial obeyed, quickly followed by Veneficus. Sitting at a barren and highly polished mahogany desk was a goblin, much older than the one that they had addressed out in the main part of the bank. "How might I assist you today?" he said as they entered, more pleasantly than Millennial had expected.

"Alexandre Blackmoore," Millennial said, taking a seat across the desk as the goblin waved him to do so, "I'm here to claim the vaults left by my family when we fled the rise of Grindlewald…"

"Ah, the Blackmoore vaults have been sealed for far too long, and Gringotts would be very pleased to continue business with you and your family," Nagnok said, nodding happily, "However, we must, for the insurance of the vault, check to see if you are indeed who you claim, as many have tried to claim lost or forgotten vaults in the past…"

Millennial smiled as he lazily waved a hand in front of the Goblin's face, "You have performed your test and have determined that I am indeed heir to the Blackmoore family and all that they own…"

The goblin's eyes glazed for a moment, before he slowly repeated the message, finally snapping out of the trance. "Well, now that your identity is assured, we may look through our records for all the vaults you inherit Lord Blackmoore."

"While you are doing so, would it be too much trouble to also find out what Mr. Harry Potter, as my ward and heir, also inherits from his deceased family?" Millennial said, gesturing at Veneficus.

The goblin scrutinized the boy, eyes sweeping his hairline, before nodding, "Not a problem at all, your Lordship. One moment please." The goblin stood, and leaving them in his office, bustled out of the room.

Veneficus looked confusedly at Millennial after the goblin left, "Master, why do we care about the funds of some dead family?" he asked calmly, and Millennial spread out his senses in the Force to determine when the goblin would return as he answered.

"Because my young apprentice, if the family fortune of Blackmoore are mine, no one can dispute my identity as Lord Alexandre Blackmoore, in either this magical community or the world at large. I will inherit all their wealth, as well as anything that would have belonged to them, such as property and other important possessions that will designate me as who I claim to be." He explained.

"Nothing without purpose…" Veneficus murmured as the goblin returned, returning to his seat and pulling out several small golden keys before addressing either of them.

"You, Lord Blackmoore, have inherited over a dozen different vaults, but as most are minor family vaults they have been automatically transferred into your larger vaults, leaving the three largest. The Blackmoore family vault," He pushed one key toward Millennial, "the Lorisha royal family vault," a second, equally small key joined the first, "and finally the rather large Ravenclaw vault," a third key, slightly larger and silver slid to meet the other two. "Together the total wealth equals over a fifth of the active capital of Gringotts."

Millennial took the three keys and pocketed them, as the goblin then turned to address his apprentice, "You, Mr. Potter, have the Potter family and inheritance vaults, and are in possession of the key already. In addition, from your godfather, Sirius Black, you inherit the Black Family vault, as the surviving members are incarcerated for life. As you are unofficially head of the Black family by inheritance, you also receive the LeStrange vault," two keys were pushed to Millennial, on a small key ring with the Potter crest stamped on it. "Also, by bloodline, you inherit the Gryffindor vault, and the Perevell vault," two of the old fashioned silver keys were attached to the key ring. "And finally, by means of conquest, you inherit the Riddle, Slytherin, and Gaunt vaults for defeating the Dark Lord as an infant." Two gold keys and a third silver joined the growing amount on the ring.

"Approximately, Mr. Potter, you own or represent over one third of the active moving wealth within this building, and have many properties and investments that would keep you living very comfortably for the rest of your natural life." Nagnok said with a steely grin.

"Wow…" Veneficus said, unable to control his reaction.

"As Mr. Potter's standing guardian," Millennial said, and Nagnok turned back to him, paying far more attention than he had previously, "I would like to merge several of his vaults' contents for convenience's sake."

"Of course Lord Ravenclaw, which vaults do you have in mind?" the goblin replied respectfully.

Together Millennial and Veneficus decided to merge the Potter vaults into the Gryffindor vault and the LeStrange into the Black, as well as the Riddle and Gaunt Vaults uniting into the Slytherin vault. That left him with four vaults for them to observe as well as Millennial's three vaults.

The carts took them to the deepest vaults first, down at the very bottom for the Slytherin, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw vaults. The sheer mountains of money were rather impressive, the Dark Lord would admit, but he was far more interested in the many tomes and volumes housed in the ancient vaults. Finding an enchanted trunk that had a magically expanded interior, the two Sith Lords started the slow process of sorting out what books they would take with them back to Blackmoore Manor and what they would leave as unnecessary at this time.

During this time, Darth Millennial came across the Ravenclaw signet ring, and choosing to fully engage the role of Lord Ravenclaw, slipped the ring on his finger. The ring started to fight him, trying to slay him with powerful magic, but Millennial had anticipated something of the sort, and simply overpowered the artifact with the unlimited power of the Dark Side, forcing the ring top accept him as its new owner and officially setting him as Lord Ravenclaw.

The two Sith also found several interesting items during their time in the depths of Gringotts, including the deed to Hogwarts School in Millennial's vault, along with several Force sensitive crystals and talismans, and finally a very old cup with small badgers as handles in the new Black vault. Veneficus was hesitant to remove it, but at the same time felt drawn to it, so Millennial snatched it for research. At he grasped the cup it gave off a strong dark aura, that Millennial felt that he should have recognized, but couldn't quote place.

Finally, Millennial filled a rather large pouch with as much gold as he could put into the magically expanded bag, and both he and his apprentice left the bank, bypassing the dragon guardian at the bottom of the caverns, and back out to the winding streets of Diagon Alley. They had arrived with Snape during the late morning, and it was now almost evening, and a few of the shops were looking deserted. Luckily, many of the shops seemed to be opened late into the night, so the two Lords of the Sith strolled casually down the street, window shopping for several less important things, entering and taking closer looks at more interesting stores.

They purchased the rest of Veneficus' school supplies, as well as several dozen things to furnish the manor house, to make it seem more of a magical dwelling to the casual visitor. Millennial insisted that his apprentice have his vision magically corrected, as it removed a major flaw in his defenses, and the younger boy had no arguments against the process. They purchased three more of the magical trunks, each with seven different compartments opened by keys or preset passwords, as well as a pair of owls, a snowy for Veneficus, and a massive great grey for Millennial. They packed their current purchases into the trunks, shrunk them with the preset words, and sent them off with the owls back to Blackmoore Manor, leaving them unencumbered for the last stage of their journey, Knockturn Alley.

"Be careful in this part," Millennial warned the younger Sith, "I don't want any unnecessary accidents that would lead to unwanted investigations…"

"Yes Master," Veneficus said, eyes alert for any signs of movement as they entered the darkened alleyway, following the faint signs of the force as the navigated the winding roads. None attempted to harass them, most feeling the power of the two strangers and instinctually avoiding the potential threat. They were led finally to a small shop near the end of the alley, which Millennial recognized from what he overheard from Lucius Malfoy. Borgin and Burkes was a rather dirty shop, filled with a lot of strange and somewhat menacing objects.

Not bothering to tell his apprentice to not touch anything, Millennial pushed inside and walked directly up to the counter, the bell that jingled alerting the proprietor to a new customer.

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Veneficus stalked off when his master confronted the shop owner, asking very jaded and veiled questions to ascertain what each other had to offer. The boy's attention was first drawn to several crystals in a small glass container that radiated subtle Force energy. The crystals were many different colours, and seemed to glow as the young Force user approached. Just then, a small voice spoke out, drawing the Sith Lord's attention away once again, "_SSSStupid humanssss, why don't they pay attention to me? I need ssssomething to eat, or I'll esssscape and kill you with my venom_."

Veneficus saw a ruby red and black snake, locked in a glass cage, staring blankly out at the rest of the store from its confinement. Approaching he heard the snake speak again, "_What doesss thiss one want? Doess the sstupid human want to gaze upon my beauty, or ssimply sssee what they could make from my poisson_?'

Not knowing why he could understand the serpent, but decided to try some flattery with his newfound skill, Veneficus said, "_Oh, I would much rather look upon you and your beauty than use your venom for anything. You're far too gorgeous for that tiny cage, aren't you_?"

That caught the snake's attention, "_It ssspeakss? Why did the wonderful human not sssay anything before? What I would give to be the companion of sssuch a handsssome ssspeaker ssuch asss yoursself_…"

The young Sith saw the flattery for what it was, but decided to try prying some information from his newfound serpentine friend. "_What sssort of breed are you, my sssmall wonder_?"

"_I am a powerful Indian Ruby Cobra, mossst deadly and magical sserpant in the easst_." The snake declared, flaring its hood and rising to show off. "_My name isss Zychre_."

"_Well, Zychre, I am Lord Veneficus, and I want you asss my familiar_." The young Sith apprentice declared, moving to lift the top of the cage as the snake hissed in joy.

"Hey you!" yelled the store owner, "Don't open that cage, that snake is highly venomous and deadly!"

Veneficus ignored the fool, lifting the serpent out of the cage, smiling as the long body coiled around his forearm. "That's fine, I wish to purchase this fine specimen."

Several dozen high priced purchases later, including a second, nontraceable wand for the young apprentice, Darth Millennial and Darth Veneficus left Knockturn and Diagon Alleys, taking a muggle cab back to Blackmoore Manor.


	4. Chapter 3

**All i can say is WOW! the amount of notice this story has recieved has boggled my mind. I'm moved, honestly I am. This story is so much fun to write and think about and I have many awesome ideas I want to try and impliment. But I need my reader's continued support in the form of Reviews! Give a review, save a writer... or something like that... hehe... anyway, Onward to...**

Chapter Three

Journeys and Sorcery

Veneficus spent no time waiting to dive into the many books that he and Millennial had taken from Gringotts or purchased in Diagon Alley, spending almost as much time studying the magical world as training or mediating. Luckily, Millennial indulged his curiosity, also participating in the consumption of the volumes to familiarize himself with the many intricacies of the newfound community of wizards, and his new familiar was content to explore his new nest, as the little snake referred to Blackmoore Manor.

The two Sith Lords ventured several more times into both Diagon and Knockturn Alleys, purchasing smaller things to complete the illusion of a pureblood wizarding Lord and his heir, including several expensive sets of robes for each of them, as well as acquiring the rest of the signet rings they owned from the goblin bank. Darth Millennial had had to use the Dark Side to bend each to his will, but Veneficus, as the rightful owner of his rings, had no problems in slipping the Gryffindor, Potter and Black family rings onto his fingers.

The time until the Hogwarts' school year diminished far too quickly for Veneficus' liking, and Millennial had been intent on a few last minute training exercises before he allowed his apprentice to be on his own for the majority of the year, including how to protect his electronic possessions from the aura of magic that permeated the entirety of the wizarding world. Millennial had become aware of this effect when trying to catalog the many books into his person datapad, and the device had refused to function. He quickly summoned a ward smith from the most expensive wizarding guild he could find.

The wizard had explained that magic and muggle created devices didn't react well with each other, causing either one or the other to fail completely. Then, at the insistence of the Sith Master, the young ward maker went about the risky procedure of warding the entire manor to prevent innate magic from interfering with any electronics within, followed up by every defensive measure that the young man had known, including the complex Fidelius charm, removing the house from sight of any who did not have permission from the secret keeper, which naturally was Darth Millennial.

The man had commented that Millennial must have been paranoid for all the different and varied defenses, and the Sith Lord had simply smiled when he replied, "You have no idea…"

In fact, by the time September the first arrived, Darth Veneficus and Darth Millennial had ingrained themselves so deeply into the wizarding world, that they had barely ventured out into the larger world, aside from training for Veneficus, or to acquire parts or materials for research or other instruction in the young apprentice's career as a Dark Side wielder.

From Snape, the two Sith had learned exactly how to access the secret train in King's Cross station for Veneficus to get to Hogwarts. Departing their taxi outside the station, the Sith Master waited with Veneficus' things as the young apprentice fetched a cart to bustle them into the station. They had plenty of time until the train left, but still they moved quickly and quietly to the pillar between platforms nine and ten, passing through and being greeted by the sight of the scarlet Hogwart's Express steam engine.

"Now, my young apprentice, I want to you make sure you learn everything you can that would be useful to our Order," Millennial said, standing well away from the other early parents and children saying their goodbyes, "And be very careful, as the Headmaster of this school, Albus Dumbledore, is about the closest thing to a Jedi Master on this planet. Do not confront him in any way or draw unwanted attention."

Veneficus nodded, and his master continued, "Nevertheless, do not hesitate to remove any threats to yourself, even if it means drawing your lightsaber. I am putting great trust in you to allow you so much time away from my tutelage my apprentice."

"I know, Master, thank you for allowing this expedition." The younger Sith replied.

"You are strong in the power of the Dark Side, my apprentice, you will be fine. Send letters to the manor and several of our droids will forward any message to me."

"Yes, Master." Veneficus replied, and as the Dark Lord of the Sith turned and left, he retrieved his luggage, and made his way to the nearest empty compartment, where he sat and waited for the train to depart.

"_Your Dark one sssmells of hate and death…_" Zychre commented lazily, coiling around Veneficus' wrist. The tiny snake was still only barely a hatchling, and therefore had to seclude itself within the bundles of cloth that were the school robes Veneficus was forced to wear for the school. The closer they got to the cold season, the more lethargic and quiet the snake had gotten, not that the young Sith minded much.

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Hermione Granger was excited, to say the very least. Ever since she received her letter inviting her to Hogwarts School, she had immersed herself with every fact and concept about this new world that she could get her hands on. But all the knowledge she had acquired only made her more excited for September the first to arrive. And now that it had, and she was actually here on the Hogwart's Express, her excitement was close to boiling over.

Hermione had practically skipped down the hallway in search of a compartment, when she came across one that only had one occupant. Happily, she slid open the door, and was met by the sounds of muted crying. The lone passenger in the compartment, a slightly chubby blond boy, was sniffling into his sleeve.

"Hello?" Hermione said quietly, trying to announce her presence without startling the boy. It didn't work and the boy jumped in his seat and whipped around to face her, "Who… who are you?" he stammered slightly.

"Hermione Granger," she said calmly, hoping to sooth the boy by sitting and taking his arm, "Would you mind telling me what's wrong? Maybe I could help?"

"No… no its alright, it's nothing…" the boy continued, tears still trickling slightly down his round face.

"Are you sure…?" Hermione paused, and the boy filled in for her, "Neville…Neville Longbottom."

"Neville," she continued, "Are you sure that I can't help, what's wrong first off."

"Well…well it's my toad… I lost him an-and I d-don't know where he's gone…"

Hermione placed a reassuring hand on Neville's arm, slowly calming the boy as she mutter reassurances, asking if the toad had been lost on the train or the station. Neville affirmed that he had last seen his pet on the train, and Hermione stood slowly, pulling the blond boy with her, "Well then, no use sitting around waiting for it to turn up. Let's go hunt it down for you."

"Y-you'd help me?" Neville said disbelievingly.

"Of course I would." Hermione said brightly, and leading Neville by the arm, started to search the train for the toad Trevor.

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Veneficus sat alone in his compartment for a good part of the journey, silently meditating and occasionally speaking with Zychre about the wide world, instructing the little serpent about the way humans behaved, as well as pondering what he was to expect at this school, when he was interrupted someone opening the door and rudely walking right in.

Looking up with a blank expression, he saw a red-haired, freckled boy half grinning at him. "Do you mind?" he said sheepishly, "Everywhere else is full…" the lie was so pathetic that the Sith apprentice didn't even bother using the Force to confirm it.

"I'd prefer to be alone…" he said coldly, but the boy simply smiled and ignored him, plopping down of the seat across from the Sith, and continuing as if he had been invited. "I'm Ron, by the way, Ron Weasley."

"That's nice…" Veneficus replied, greatly agitated that the foolish boy was not going to leave him be. Subtly drawing the Force around him, he started to probe the boy's mind as he obliviously talked, not even reacting when Veneficus refused to respond.

Swirling unnoticed through the boy's thoughts, the Sith Lord found a short trace of memory that was burning behind the conversation in the boy's psyche, '_Befriend Harry Potter_.' It was odd, however, that the thought did not have the boy's own mental signature on it, almost as if it was implanted there from an outside source…

Thankfully, the boy's longwinded chatter was interrupted by another knock on the compartment door, followed by it sliding away to reveal a young girl, the same age as both Veneficus and Weasley, followed by another blond haired boy.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville here has lost one," she asked politely. Zychre hissed something about it he had found a toad, it would be long dead by now, but Veneficus ignored him. Thanking the Force for the distraction, the young apprentice stood, "No, I have not, but I will gladly help you both look." He offered. Weasley stood, as if to either follow or prevent his prisoner from escaping, but the Sith closed the compartment door in his face before following the girl and boy down the crowded corridor.

"I'm Hermione Granger," the girl said, shaking the hand of the Sith Lord, "and you are?"

"Harry Potter," Veneficus replied, easily sliding into the persona of the wizarding world's fabled hero. The girl's eyes widened slightly, and the boy, Neville, openly gaped at him, "Holy cricket, are you really?" Hermione asked, dumbstruck.

The Sith apprentice laughed slightly, "Yes, I really am," and to prove it, he moved his rather long fringe of hair away to reveal the famous scar on his forehead. Neville looked like he was about to wet himself in silent excitement. Granger was giddy as well, "Well, I know all about you of course, I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in 'Modern Magical History,' 'The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts,' and 'Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.'"

"Am I?" Veneficus said, feigning a dazed expression. He was already well aware of the false presumptions the wizards had placed upon him, practically weaving their own story of what had happened the night his biological parents were murdered.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad..."

"Well, I haven't really thought about what house I'd want to be in, especially when it's just a hat that decides for us." The young Sith smoothly replied, "I mean, after Hogwarts, what house you're in doesn't really affect you does it?"

"I suppose that's true," Hermione said, thinking hard, "Anyway, let's get looking for that toad."

It took them about fifteen minutes to find the wretched animal, Veneficus had decided at last to use the Force to bring the animal into the open for Neville and Hermione to capture. Zychre hissed about how happily he would have looked himself for the toad, but complained that it was too cold for a little snake to go wandering alone, which caused the Sith to snort at the laziness of the serpent. Happily, the blond boy left to return his pet to its cage, and Granger said something about needing to change into her robes, and departed as well.

Veneficus had no desire to return to his compartment and the Weasley brat, and was silently thankful that his luggage would be taken up to the castle for him, so he wandered up and down the corridor several times before someone in a nearly full compartment beckoned him inside. Turning to look, Veneficus saw the blond, arrogant face of Lucius Malfoy's son, grinning in a way that reminded him of Weasley. The only difference was that, with himself the only known Force user in the area, he was finally able to sense the small affinity that the blond child had for the unlimited power surrounding them. Weak, naturally when compared to either of the adept Sith Lords, but substantial enough that if properly trained, would make a decent Force user.

Veneficus allowed himself to be led into the compartment, where four other boys, in addition to the Malfoy boy sat, watching expectantly as the Sith apprentice joined their midst.

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Draco was pleased that Harry Potter had accepted his invitation to join him, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle in his compartment. Sitting across from the black haired boy next to the window, Draco pointed around the room at each person, introducing each of them. Ending with himself, he held out a hand for Potter to shake. "…and I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Potter seemed to regard his offered hand for a moment, and Draco held his breath. Finally, Potter took it, grinning slightly as he responded, "Harry Potter." Silently, Draco celebrated. A friend as powerful and well connected as Harry Potter would do nothing but improve Draco's own reputation within the student body of Hogwarts, and even beyond into the world at large. He had a small feeling, that he couldn't place, but he felt that allying with Potter would mean great things happening in Draco's life.

But for now, he started casually, asking Potter about mundane things like Quidditch and Hogwart's houses, explaining how Slytherin was definitely the best place for those who had the ambitious drive to get things done, like Draco himself. Potter was very congenial, if not a bit guarded, which Draco pointed out as a powerful Slytherin technique. The other boy simply smirked at him, and the discussion turned to other things for the rest of the train ride.

Finally when the train came to a rest in the Hogsmead station, the six boys tromped out, leaving their pet cages and trunks on the train to be transferred to the castle ahead of them. Draco sneered slightly as the giant half-breed oaf called for the first years to follow him down to the black lake, and organized them to enter the little rowboats, four students to one boat. Draco smirked as he saw the boy who was clearly a Weasley scowl as he, Crabbe, Goyle and Potter climbed into a boat together, leaving him to be with a gaggle of other random students.

When they finally arrived at the castle, the giant of a man led the trembling first years up to the large front doors, banged heavily on them, and handed them over to a stern looking old woman in green robes.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered on several students, all in different degrees of disarray as she said this.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," she said finally, "Please wait quietly." She then turned and left the room.

They waited in near silence for several moments, before Draco was shoved roughly from behind, and staggered into Crabbe, who caught and righted him instantly. Turning to glare, Draco saw the red headed Weasley boy harassing Potter.

"What are you doing with those slimy snakes Harry?" he yelled, trying to snatch the emerald eyed boy's arm and forcefully drag him away. "You need to get away from those Dark Wizards and…" but what Potter needed to do was lost as the same boy seized the irritating boy and swept his leg from under him, sending the red head to the floor with a loud grunt of surprise.

"What gives you the right," Potter almost hissed, standing over Weasley, eyes boring into the other boy, "to try and tell me what I can or cannot do. Touch me again, and you will deeply regret it…"

Draco shivered at the words; each seemed to be dipped in poison and flung with an invisible hand at Weasley, who quailed at the controlled wrath of Potter.

Just as the ginger got to his feet and Harry returned to Draco's side, the old woman, McGonagall, returned to lead them to the rest of the students and teachers.

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Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry watched with interest as the newest first years entered the Great Hall, their little feet scuffling down between the long house tables as they walked in two orderly lines behind Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration Teacher, toward the lone stool in front of the wide head table, upon which the Sorting Hat lay. He smiled in his usual grandfatherly way as he saw the youngest Weasley, and saw that the boy clearly still had the command to befriend Harry Potter still deep in his mind, planted by Albus himself prior to the school year. The youngest Weasley would be a great asset to 'guiding' the young Potter heir, making it simple for Albus to influence what route his life would take, and how he would go about defeating the Dark Lord Voldemort for good.

Unfortunately, the red haired youth seemed to be having difficulty in attaining the favor of the Potter heir, and Albus silently fretted as he saw the children of suspected Death Eaters surrounding him. But, no… they were quite surrounding him, as if to prevent escape, but the children were arranged more like a protective phalanx of guards, ready to fight and die for a commander or a king. This greatly worried Albus, but there was nothing he could do at the moment but wait and hope that the Sorting Hat, which had just now finished its yearly song, would see past any Slytherin traits to the pure Gryffindor the Harry Potter must be.

Professor McGonagall started calling the eleven year old children one by one, in alphabetical order, and placed the Sorting Hat on their heads. Albus smiled as each child was accepted into a house, but inwardly he was slightly eager for the process to move on to the main attraction.

It was slow, but eventually the long list of names thinned, and finally, Minerva called out, "Harry Potter."

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Veneficus cringed inwardly as he was called forward to try on the moldy old hat. Personally, he was more comfortable in the shadows, not being forced out center stage like some spectacle. But, not obeying would cause even more undesired attention and suspicion, so he dutifully marched up and sat on the stool. The entire hall whispered as he mounted the steps, and the young Sith frowned at them, just as the overlarge hat fell over his eyes.

"_Hmm_," said a small voice in his ear. "_Difficult_. _Very difficult_… _Plenty of courage_, _I see_, _almost nearing ferocity_. _Quite the sharp mind too_. _There's raw talent there_, _and my goodness_, _yes and deep and powerful thirst to prove yourself_, _now that's interesting_, _and just slightly frightening_..._But where shall I put you_?"

Veneficus sighed mentally, thinking that the hat should hurry up and make up its decision, and expanding his senses in the Force. He felt all eyes still on him, and especial yearning from young Malfoy and the rest of the now Slytherin students he had ridden on the train with. Even Hermione, over at the Ravenclaw table, was concerned over where he was to be sorted. The different students' new-found interest, border lining obsession was genuine, if not subtle encouraged through Veneficus' own compulsion through the Dark Side, but it was just enough to convince them that he was one of them, and therefore an ally. One needed to be in the possession of loyal allies, especially if what the Sith apprentice knew about this world and its impression of him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the small voice of the hat, "_Now now young Sith_, _focus back to the present_…" Veneficus glared at the inside of the hat, wondering how it knew he was Sith.

"_It's all here_, _in your head_. _And now that you are listening_, _I have made my choice_." The Hat continued.

'_Good_, _hurry up then_,' Veneficus thought angrily.

"_Fine_, _insolent brat_," the Hat retorted, "_you will find your ambitious nature well useful in_, SLYTHERIN!"

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Albus almost choked on his held breath when the Hat cried out. Harry Potter had been on the stool for several long moments before the Hat had announced that he was sorted into… Slytherin…

But, Albus thought worriedly, that wasn't the way it was supposed to be. He had had everything in the proper place for Harry to be guided into the house of Gryffindor, as was the boy's heritage. But no, the Hat had clearly sorted him into Salazar's house, totally stunning the hall, to the point where only the other first year Slytherins, and one Ravenclaw Albus noticed, applauded as Harry tugged the Hat off his head and joined his classmates at the green and silver table.

The muted tension continued even through the last four students' sorting, Ronald Weasley and another boy for Gryffindor, a girl for Ravenclaw, and a final Slytherin. Albus kept up his grandfatherly persona as he set the feast in motion, returning to his seat and picking at his food. Where had his plan gone wrong? What had changed to prevent abused little Harry Potter from latching onto the first wizards he found, the Weasleys, and joining them in the correct house…

Albus shot a small glance at the Slytherin table, and saw that the first year Snakes, especially the boys, were all chatting happily with Harry, while the black haired boy seemed to smirk at the eagerness of the others to include him. Shaking his head sadly, Albus turned to meet the eyes of Severus. The Head of Slytherin looked no more confused than Albus, and the aged Headmaster gave him a small nod, their secret gesture for an important meeting between the pair of the later that night. All that was left was to try and continue with his plan to prepare Harry to meet Voldemort.

Albus sighed quietly as the meal finished, standing and giving out the standard announcements, in addition to the careful, yet obvious warning away from the third floor, hoping that Harry's nature would still kick in for him to investigate, eventually. Albus had a few more schemes to nudge the boy in the direction that he desired. Dismissing the students for the night, Albus bade the rest of the professors a goodnight, then retired to his study with Severus, eager to hear all that Severus had learned from his trip through Diagon Alley with the boy. He hoped that the Potions Master had seen something that could shed some light on the disturbing turn of events.

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Lord Millennial hadn't wasted a moment since he left his apprentice at the train station. He had hailed transportation back to Blackmoore Manor, and ordered the droids aboard his ship to prep it for immediate takeoff. Meanwhile, the Dark Lord of the Sith made preparations with the few droids he was able to spare to leave at the manor to transmit any messages Lord Veneficus would send over the time he was planning to be gone. He also ordered them to begin excavating the ground beneath the manor and begin building a subterranean compound there, connecting it to the main building above through a series of secret passageways.

This small project was mainly to make an area that the Sith could move their secret works to, and continue practicing their arts while the main part of the house remained ready for any unexpected guests. The encounter with Lucius Malfoy had inspired Millennial to do this, and he was certain that the blond aristocrat would make good on his promise of opening correspondence, and Millennial wanted to be more than ready if the man ever chose to make a personal visit.

It was this same issue that had pushed Millennial to allow magical wards to be placed over the house, in addition to the need to prevent the many devices that he and his apprentice owned from malfunctioning when the younger Sith began practicing his sorcery in the manor.

But wards and droid weren't going to be enough to fool someone from the wizarding world that Millennial was indeed Lord Blackmoore-Ravenclaw, and there weren't any humans on the planet that he would trust to keep in his manor full time to act the part of a servant, so the Sith Lord was forced to make another venture out into the wider galaxy.

Millennial hoped to be able to find some weak human or near human to bring with him, baited with the promise of freedom or power or some other trivial thing. But more importantly, Millennial wished to return once again to Dromund Kaas and search the ruins that he had been forced to abandon when Darth Cognus had attacked him and his fledgling Dark Order. He had unfortunately had no time to resume his search after assuming the mantle of Sith Master, as not only had Veneficus' training taken priority, but he had needed to secure the artifacts and associations that Cognus had left behind, and that had taken much longer than the mutant had desired.

But now with his apprentice off to a magical school, hopefully learning something that would benefit the Sith Order in ways that Millennial couldn't imagine, the Dark Lord had free time to return and continue searching through the ruins of the ancient Sith Capital. Perhaps there were still relics or other Force sensitive objects that could further the learning of the Order. Millennial knew that the planet had been picked over by the jedi decades ago, and then long since forgotten, but there was always the chance that they in their ignorance of the nature of the Dark Side had overlooked something substantial.

Having finished his preparations and gather a few supplies for surviving the marshy jungle world, Millennial boarded his ship, still hidden in the forest outside the manor. He had included room for a personal hanger bay in his plans for expanding the manor, and he hoped that the handful of droids would be able to at least finished opening out that part, so that he could better secret away his and Veneficus' only sure means of fleeing the planet should the worst occur.

Millennial didn't bother manually flying from the planet, opting to merely set the ships autopilot to the coordinates of Dromund Kaas, activating the cloaking device, and returned to his quarters, sinking into a meditative trance as the ship sped away and plunged into hyperspace.

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Severus swept into the first Gryffindor Slytherin class of the year, smirking slightly as the newest additions to both houses jumped when the door slammed behind him. The only student seemingly unaffected by his entrance was Potter. Severus frowned as he began calling the roll. He was sure there was something about Potter that was far too… off. Severus felt as though he knew something about the boy, but he couldn't remember what is was.

When Albus had talked with him after the Sorting feast, he had expressed great concern at the boy being in Slytherin, and the Potions Master couldn't help but agree, but for different reasons. He did not truly want to be closer to the son of his former rival than he had to, and with the lad in Slytherin, Severus saw him on almost a daily basis. Severus had mentioned his problems with his memory, and Albus had used legilimency to check for damage or obliviations in Severus' mind, but had found nothing, so they were left where they began.

Severus paused when he reached the boy's name. "Ah, yes," he said slowly, just loud enough for the whole class to hear, "Harry Potter. Our new… celebrity."

Several of the Gryffindor boys sniggered as he spoke. The leader of their bunch seemed to be the youngest Weasley boy, if the red hair gave anything away. Severus knew from his experience with the family to watch out for this one. His elder brothers had many talents, but overall lacked both respect and motivation to obey the rules.

"You are here," Severus said after finishing the roll call, addressing the class, "to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking." He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but the entire class hung on every word. Severus, like several of his colleagues, had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort.

"As there is little foolish wand waving here," he continued, "many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death… if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

The class was in complete silence at the end of his opening speech. Severus decided that a quick demonstration of his high level of expectations was in order, and he already had several perfect guinea pigs. "Potter!" he called suddenly, only partially hoping to catch the boy off guard.

He didn't, but continued without a pause as the Gryffindors sniggered again, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

It was an unfair question, but Severus did not care, technically it _was _in 'One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi', even if it was only a subnote in a ending chapter.

Potter still managed to surprise Severus, "That would be the Draught of Living Death…sir."

Grudgingly, Severus nodded. The boy had read the entire book, no, he had done more than that. He had memorized the entire book, but had he applied the knowledge. That was yet to be seen. The Gryffindor boys were muttering to each other, so Severus directed the next volley of questions to their side of the room, "Weasley! Where would you look if I asked you to find be a bezoar?"

The red haired boy looked completely stunned. Severus waited, one eyebrow raised, drawing out the torment of the youngest Weasley to struggle to form some sort on answer. "I… I don't know… sir." He finally said.

"Pity… then I feel that I need to take a point from Gryffindor, didn't think to open a book before coming, did you?"

The boy's ears turned slightly pink, and Severus sneered. Finally turning back to his Slytherins, he fired one final question, for fairness. "Malfoy, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Draco smiled as he looked up from writing the answers to the previous two questions, "There is no difference, unless you count the phase of the moon when they are picked sir."

"Correct, one point to Slytherin." Severus replied. He knew that Draco was more than competent for up to fourth year potions, having taught the boy himself during his younger years.

Severus then paired up the students, putting Potter together with Draco, and Weasley with the Longbottom boy, mentally noting to watch both pairs, the first for great success and the second for great failure. He directed them to the proper page for their first practical potion, the Boil Cure Potion. As the students started to weight nettles and crush snake fangs for the beginning steps, he strode around the room, subtly correcting those students that showed potential, and prevent catastrophes from those who didn't.

The well expected and prepared for disaster finally happened about halfway through the lesson as billowing clouds of green smoke erupted with a loud hissing in the dungeon classroom. Longbottom had melted his cauldron, his and Weasley's potion seeping across the floor and burning everything it came into contact with. The pitiful boy had been drenched in the mess, and was sprouting boils all over his exposed skin, moaning weakly in pain.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Severus, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Evidently that was exactly what happened, as Weasley glared back, and Longbottom merely whimpered as the angry red boils started to spread.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Severus spat at Weasley, "and that's another point from Gryffindor for sheer stupidity…"

As the pair of boys left the room, Severus caught a sight of Potter across the dungeon. He was thoughtfully smirking at Severus, but returned to his potion when they made eye contact. But from what Severus saw, the boy's face had shown something along the lines of… approval? The enigma of the Potter brat seemed to grow with each passing hour.

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Draco tossed restlessly in his emerald four-poster bed down in the Slytherin first year boy's dormitory. He had had difficulty sleeping ever since he had arrived, at first allocating the insomnia to homesickness. But after the first week, and even going to the school nurse for Dreamless Sleep potion, he was starting to think something was terribly wrong that prevented him from resting.

Grumbling slightly, he pulled the curtains open and shuffled out to the common room, thinking that maybe the large fireplace there would relax him enough to drop off to sleep. Clad in his pajamas and a sleeping robe, he stopped at the entrance to the main room, surprised at what he saw. Harry Potter was already there, kneeling in front of the large fireplace, motionless. It was such an odd position that Draco hesitated instead of entering immediately.

During the entire week Harry had quite seamlessly merged himself into Slytherin politics and had earned the respect of his housemates, despite the shaky and uncertain start because of his heritage. Draco still remembered when the boy had out debated a seventh year boy about the importance of blood purity, stating several figures in the muggle world that had achieved greater, and even more terrible atrocities than full-fledged Dark Lords such as Grindlewald… He spoke with such passion in his words that everyone around him would stop and listen, even if they innately disagreed with him, and very often he was able to at least instill doubt into those who opposed him.

Even those in other houses were starting to notice the black haired boy, namely Ravenclaw and some of Hufflepuff. Gryffindors never noticed anything unless it was dancing naked in front of them, and even then only half the time, so they didn't count. Draco realized he had been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed that Harry was calling out to him softly. "Draco, you know that it's rude to linger in doorways…"

Blushing slightly, Draco hurried into the room, seating himself in one of the more comfortable armchairs near the fire, giving him a perfect vantage point to view whatever it was that Harry was doing. A recent copy of the Evening Prophet lay in front of him, but the boy's eyes were closed as he simply knelt on the floor, seeming lost in thought.

"What are you doing?" Draco finally asked, breaking several moments of silence.

Without even looking, Harry answered, "Meditating."

"Oh," Draco said, mentally smacking himself in the forehead. He should have known that, having had rudimentary Occlumency lessons with his godfather Severus before coming to Hogwarts. "Searching for inner peace or something?" he asked innocently.

"Peace is a lie…"Harry replied snidely, a small scowl forming on his face. The retort was so reflexive and spontaneous that Draco jerked back as if struck. "But… isn't that the point of meditating?" he questioned, now intently curious.

Still focused on his own mental exercises, Harry continued, "Perhaps for the weak and the foolish, but those who truly seek the mysteries of the universe know that passion is the route to power. Emotions are the gateway of unlimited and untold strength for an individual. And face it; if you as an individual are weak, it's not long before someone strong will eliminate you. It's the law of life, the strong endure and the weak die."

Draco's mouth watered. If this was true, perhaps he could use this power to strengthen himself, perhaps even prove his worth to his father, and take his rightful place at the heir of house Malfoy. "Is there some way to learn this power?"

Finally Harry opened his eyes, turning slowly to face Draco, "Not from weak-hearted fools that refuse to grab any advantage there is…"

Draco saw the barb for what it was, a snipe at his own father and all the pureblood advocates. It was a deal, open mindedness in exchange for teachings. "I am not weak-hearted…" he responded slowly.

"We shall see…"Potter replied, and Draco's hair stood up on end at the tone in the boy's voice.


	5. Chapter 4

**Wow... Thanks so very much to the massive amount of attention that was ignited from the last chapter. this story has officially surpassed my ANP: Year Four story in reviews, favs, and alerts despite being less than half the word size. I'm touched, truely I am. Please, please, please continue this wonderful relationship of writer/reader and continue to review so that my muse will surge forth into great storywriting and magnificent madness... yes madness, thats what it is... the good kind, not the bad...**

**Anywho, on with the next chapter!**

Chapter Four

Seeds of Darkness

Veneficus had never found any being overly obnoxious before, even some incredibly hyper Bith he had had the unfortunate luck to run into on Nar Shaddaa, but Ronald Weasley pushed the limits of the young Sith's barely restrained patience. Veneficus seriously questioned the boy's intelligence, as he kept doggedly flirting with death at Veneficus' own hands. The red head simply refused to take in the fact that he was not, nor ever would be 'Harry Potter's' friend, and insisted on foolish tactics and swaggering over to him wherever he was and starting conversations like they were on speaking terms, or trying to explain to him why Gryffindor was better and that he needed to switch houses and 'return to the light.'

The Sith apprentice really enjoyed the irony of that line, and had to restrain himself from laughing out loud every time the witless child tried it on him. Almost several times a day, Zychre offered to bite the boy for him, injecting a lethal dose of venom, but Veneficus knew better than to allow the boy to die. Draco and the other Slytherins were getting just as tired of his continual presence as well, even going so far as to secretly hex the lump of a boy, entangling his legs or preventing him from speaking. Veneficus did nothing to stop them, rather enjoying the camaraderie that his fellow Slytherin student showed to him.

Luckily, Veneficus only had to deal with the annoying red haired boy during meals and in Potions class, and Professor Snape, despite how much he seemed to dislike the young Sith, prevented the entirety of Gryffindor house from focusing on anything but their work.

That was, until Veneficus saw the notice board the middle of the second week of classes. Slytherins and Gryffindors would be taught their first flying lesson together, starting on Thursday. Veneficus groaned inwardly. While he was keenly interested in absorbing as much magical knowledge as he could, broomstick flying included, having Weasley there would prove to be a potentially fatal distraction. Unfortunately, Draco misinterpreted his hesitation for the lesson as nerves about flying.

"Don't worry Harry, I highly doubt you'll make a fool of yourself during the flying lesson, probably," he smirked, "Anyway, we'll at least get to see how bad the Weasel is despite his claims."

Wizarding children did do a lot of exaggeration when it came to flying. Veneficus decided it spawned from not having enough productive outlets in their miserable lives, but he never expressed this opinion, as he was trying to blend in, and therefore showed keen interest when Draco told his boastful stories for the hundred and eleventh time.

By exactly three thirty in the afternoon on the designated day, the Slytherins had arrived at the predetermined location for the flying lesson. The Gryffindors were about five minutes late, and Madam Hooch, the flying instructor and Quidditch referee frowned at them before commanding them all to find a broom and stand next to it. Veneficus stood between Draco and Theodore Nott on the 'Slytherin' side of the brooms, and standing across, unfortunately, from Weasley himself who smiled and tried to get his attention with small waves of various limbs. Rolling his eyes at Draco, the Sith apprentice refocused his full attention on the instructions being given by Madam Hooch.

When he put his right hand over his broom and intoned the 'Up' command, he was only mildly surprised when the broom all but leapt into his hand, far faster than anyone else of the few who got it on their first chance. The lesson was very informative, but unfortunately, Neville, the hapless boy who had lost his toad on the train, clearly was terrified of the thought of flying, and inadvertently pushed on far too early, and slipped off as his broom rocketed into the air, breaking his wrist and singlehandedly interrupting the lesson.

Madam Hooch escorted the whimpering boy to the infirmary, and no sooner were they out of earshot than Draco burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in. Veneficus smiled, but did not laugh. The humiliation of how weak the boy was delight enough for the Sith, mocking him further was unnecessary. Zychre hissed, "S_sstupid fat human should know better. Ssskies are meant for deliciousss birdsss, not humansss or sssnakesss…_"

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped a Gryffindor girl, Parvati Patil. Veneficus had made a note to memorize every first year's name and face for future reference; you never knew who you might get set to do a project with.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl with a really shallow personality. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies Parvati."

"Look!" Draco said, interrupting the bickering girls, and he ran forward, snatching something small and round from the ground where Neville had landed. Holding it up triumphantly, Draco gloated, "It's a Rememberall, precious Neville must have lost his only ability to remember where he left his brain."

The Slytherins hooted in renewed laughter and Veneficus could see the Gryffindors, Weasley in particular, fuming in anger.

"Give it here Malfoy!" Weasley half-yelled, and Draco smirked nastily back at him. "No, I think I won't…"

Veneficus decided now was the time to act, and curb this impertinence from the blond boy, "Give it to me Draco," he said calmly, urging with the Force for the boy to obey. Draco visibly shivered, and Veneficus realized that the boy's limited sensitivity to the Force was allowing him to feel when the Dark Side was being used around him. He smirked as small pieces of a larger puzzle started to fall into place. Draco's smirk faltered slightly, before he walked over and handed the Rememberall to the Sith Lord. "Thank you Draco," Veneficus said, before snatching up his broom. "If Neville is so weak that he lost this, then he no longer deserves it," he addressed to the students at large. Weasley's entire face was starting to go red, "Harry, give it back to Neville, come on mate…"

Veneficus stared coldly back, "I honestly have no idea what you are talking about Ronald Weasley, nor do I appreciate your continued attempts to pretend that you and I are anything remotely similar to friends. Now this is mine, and I claim it by rights of strength, unless you want to try and take it from me…"

"_Let me bite him for you masssster_..." Zychre whined, but Veneficus soothed the snake with the Force

The challenge was met with silence from the rest of the students, even the Slytherins cowed by the malice in Veneficus' words. Weasley, naturally, had clearly not heard anything that the young Sith had said, and continued to plead, "Harry, you don't know what you're talking about," he smiled stupidly before continuing, "of course were friends, you're just spending too much time listening to those slimy snakes to realize it. Now give me back Neville's Rememberall and we can go back to the castle…"

Veneficus laughed, high and cold note echoing around the clearing. Most of the students shivered. "You are a fool then…" Veneficus said, his voiced dripping with the Dark Side, "I will not give my new trophy away, and if you do not force it from my grasp, Neville will never see it again, you simple-minded beggar."

It must have been something about the word 'beggar' that stung particularly deep, because Weasley suddenly screamed, fists balled up, and charged the Sith apprentice head-on like some foolish Jedi. Veneficus simply stood there, waiting for the very last second before leaping to the side, sweeping the red haired boy's legs from him as his momentum carried him past, and thudding hard to the cold ground.

Still the fool did not let up, getting to his feet and trying to attack again, swinging his fists blindly trying to hit Veneficus. But the Sith was far too agile for him, ducking and weaving easily around his careless attacks, before finally seizing the boy by the front of his robes and, still clutching the Rememberall, planting his fist into the boy's nose, relishing in the crunching feeling as the cartilage crumbled beneath his strike.

Weasley collapsed, clutching his broken nose and whimpering in pain, blood gushing from both nostrils. "What in the devil is going on here!" came an adult voice from toward the castle. Veneficus looked up from his hand, coated in the red head's blood, to see Professor's McGonagall and Snape hurrying toward them.

"Potter!" Snape called as they arrived, and he saw the pitiful boy still weeping no the ground, "What happened here?" he said slowly, calculating eyes taking in the entire scene.

"Weasley attacked Harry, Sir," Draco spoke up at once, and the other Slytherin's nodded in agreement, "Harry only used one punch to take him out, other than that he didn't lay a finger on Weasley."

Snape looked at each of the Slytherins, taking in their agreement to the statement before turning back to Veneficus, "Is this true Potter?" he demanded.

"Yes sir, it is." The young Sith Lord stated flatly.

Snape then turned to McGonagall, who was organizing the Gryffindors to escort Weasley up to the infirmary, and was just turning herself toward the rest of the student, fire in her eyes, "Self defense, Minerva," Snape said, forestalling her outburst.

"Self defense? Self defense!" the old woman blustered, "The boy doesn't have a scratch on him, and Weasley has a shattered nose, how is that self defense Severus?"

"Weasley clearly started the fight," Snape continued calmly, "and Potter ended it as quickly as he could while protecting himself."

"Fine," the head of Gryffindor said, throwing up her hands, "But Dumbledore will hear of this Severus, I guarantee that!" And with that she stormed off. Snape followed soon after, first directing the Slytherins to get ready for their next classes. Inwardly Veneficus knew that this was a poor outcome of him losing control. Dumbledore getting involved was the last thing he desired. But, at the moment, it felt good to use even a tiny amount of the Dark Side for the first time in over a week.

Walking back up to the castle, listening to Draco and the other Slytherins muttering excitedly at how Veneficus had defended himself, the Sith Lord formulated an important plan. He desperately needed to find somewhere to continue his training in private, so he could more easily control himself when the other students were watching.

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Hermione had heard the most bewildering rumors throughout dinner, and she intended to prove to herself that the other Hogwarts students were just making things up about Harry because he was a Slytherin. Luckily, the Ravenclaws and Slytherins had History of Magic together that evening.

As she entered professor Binns' classroom, their only ghost professor, she saw Harry immediately, sitting amidst his usual group of Slytherins. As she started heading toward them, the other students grudgingly made room for her right next to Harry, on the far side from Draco Malfoy, who looked at her but said nothing. "Hullo Harry." She said, easing into the conversation.

Harry nodded at her, lost in a book that he had propped on the desk in front of him. Hermione noticed that it was their 'A History of Magic' book, and that the black haired boy was reading far ahead of where Binns was lecturing. She was impressed; to say the least, as most other students simply slept through the ghost teachers lessons, missing very important information that was sure to be on their exams.

"So, Harry…"She began during a lull in Binns' monologue, "I heard the funniest rumor at dinner. People are saying that you stole Neville's Rememberall and broke Ronald Weasley's nose…"

Malfoy snapped to full attention as he listened in on the conversation.

"And you don't know who to believe, so you decided to come straight to the source for the truth…" Harry finished for her, still reading. "How touching…"

There was something in the way he said it that sent small shivers down Hermione's spine, but she plunged on anyways, "Well, yes… I did…"

Harry didn't respond, turning the page of his book and continuing to study. Hermione was about to retort, but Binns had started another long-winded speech, and she bent to take notes. At the next available pause, she nudged Harry to indicate that she wasn't finished, "So… is it true?" she whispered.

"There's no need to whisper, Hermione." Harry replied nonchalantly, "Neither Binns nor the other students will hear us, they're all asleep or long dead…"

Hermione scowled, started to get frustrated now, "Harry James Potter you will tell me right now or…"

"Or what Hermione? You'll make me somehow?"

Draco was sniggering silently now behind his hand. Hermione fumed silently, but a thought struck her. Harry was refusing to say because he actually _had _actually done both the things the Gryffindor first years were claiming that he had. At the end of the lesson, she ran to catch up with Harry and Draco before they left the room, "Give it to me," she demanded, hands on her hips as she blocked the doorway.

Draco frowned, but Harry just stood there, a blank expression on his face, "Figured it out have you?" he said coolly.

"Yes, and I demand you to return Neville's Rememberall to me this instant!" she yelled at him, and the other students around them stopped to watch.

"I'm going to tell you this only once, Hermione…" Harry said, pointing one finger at her, "Unless Neville himself manages to take it back from me, and I highly doubt that will ever happen, that Rememberall is by all rights mine."

Hermione stood there, taken aback with what she heard, "But why? You don't even have any need for it!"

"As a lesson," Harry replied with a shrug. "The strong take what they want and the weak will lose everything unless they make themselves strong. It's the longest and most revered law of all creatures, and only humans have been foolish enough to delude themselves with the concept of _equality_ and _fairness_, well I hate to break it to you, but life isn't fair. The sooner you children learn this, the better prepared for it you can hope to be…"

And with that he swept past her, Malfoy and the other Slytherins riding in his wake.

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Draco smirked as the group of Slytherin first years returned to the common room. "You showed that jumped up Mudblood Granger, Harry." He gloated, relishing in the previous class' events.

Harry said nothing, walking to the dormitory to stow his books and bag away before returning to the common room where Draco had pulled out a Wizards chess set. "Fancy a game Harry?" he asked casually. Harry was the only Slytherin that would play Draco and still posed a challenge, very often beating him with strategies that Draco had never seen coming.

"Not tonight, Draco." Harry said, making his way to the entrance to the common room.

"Hey, where're you going?" Draco called as the boy exited to the dungeon corridor. Harry either didn't answer, or hadn't heard Draco's call, as he continued around the corner and out of sight. Draco frowned, he didn't really like being left behind by anyone he was talking to, but he didn't have the willpower to try and follow Harry. There was some strangeness about him, like a similar aura of authority that Lucius had that prevented Draco from _wanting _to disobey, whether out of fear of consequences or a desire to please Harry, Draco didn't know.

None of the other Slytherins seemed to have noticed this effect Harry had on them, accepting him as a leader almost naturally. It was like they were under some sort of spell when he was in the room, but that was impossible… wasn't it? Draco decided to look it up in the library later, and trudged off to the dormitory, sitting on his bed in the currently empty room and closing the curtains around him.

Settling himself cross legged atop the green covers, Draco closed his eyes and cleared his mind of conscious thought. Normally this would be a very simple and routine exercise for Draco, but this wasn't the case today. His mind was far too full of the day's events to be able to banish all of his thoughts.

In response, Draco's mind dredged up the memory of Harry telling him about meditating and emotions. Draco hadn't really had any time recently to attempt to put the concept into practice, but now he was completely free for the evening, so… why not.

So, instead of trying to chase away the random thoughts floating in his subconscious, Draco instead observed each as it pasted in and out of focus, trying to feel out the emotions them, seeking for clues as to what power they could grant him. He did feel… something, like an odd warmth growing deep within himself… but Draco couldn't quite place it, and it left him as soon as he felt it. He attempted several more times, with each memory or thought that flowed through his mind, but he couldn't make any progress.

Finally, his concentration was broken completely when the other first year boys came noisily into the room, getting ready to go to bed. With a quiet, frustrated huff, Draco settled back himself, wondering what Harry's technique was that he had half hinted at possessing.

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Veneficus had started from the dungeons, looking for a secluded area for him to train away from the rest of the student body, but to no avail. The dungeons were simply too small and compact for anything more complicated than meditation, and he could do that easily anywhere. He was itching badly to continue work on his hybrid lightsaber form, and it drove him crazy to have had nearly three weeks without having done his physical training once.

So he proceeded upward, sticking to the shadows and easily avoiding the mangy caretaker and his cantankerous cat, as well as the patrolling prefects and other teachers, finding nothing secret or large enough on the ground, first, or second floors. On the third floor, he had the unfortunate fate to run into Peeves, the poltergeist of the castle, and had to use the Force to run at top speed away when the vile specter had raised an alarm as a prank on him. And because of this mistake, Veneficus found himself in the 'Forbidden' corridor of the castle.

And he found out why it was forbidden.

A great three-headed dog was hidden behind a pathetically locked door, which Veneficus had unlocked with magic from their charms textbook to hide himself from Filch, and the Sith Lord had barely enough time to fall back through the door before one of the dog's giant heads took a large snapping bite at where his torso had been moments earlier.

Flinging the door shut with the Force, Veneficus waved his want to re-lock the door magically, before standing and brushing dust from his robes. 'Stupid oversized things,' he thought bitterly. The billowing robes and cloak were so impractical he didn't see any reason that wizards bothered wearing them. Even the Sith robes he was rather fond of at least were cut and fitted to allow maximum movement instead of hindering it in favor of 'fashion.'

But at least he had something interesting to do now in addition to finding a place to train: discovering what that dog was guarding. He had clearly noticed the trapdoor the dog was standing upon just before having to dive out of the massive jaw's way.

'Well, at least it's something more interesting then classes…'

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Lord Millennial snapped out of his meditative trance just as his ship started its final descent to the former Dark Force temple of Dromund Kaas. As the autopilot charted a course to the roof of the temple where his fated duel with Darth Cognus had taken place, Millennial used the short range sensors to begin a sweep for sentient life forms, simultaneously reaching out with the Force as well, not fully trusting machines when his own power was capable of giving him the needed information.

He was pleased when both returned the same report. There were six beings still alive in and around the temple, although one was barely clinging to life. They were all Force sensitive, and had clearly sensed Millennial's arrival. One in fact was slowly approaching the top of the temple, probably to scout out the new arrival.

Millennial didn't feel that any of them would be threatening to him, the strongest being the one barely alive, so he simply clipped his lightsaber to his belt, and strode from his ship just as a large Zabrak emerged from the temple's turbolift to meet him.

Millennial merely lifted a hand, using the force the cause tiny particles implanted long ago in his hand to glow, forming the symbol of the Dark Force religion. It also marked him as Supreme Prophet of the Dark Side, and the Zabrak recognized it immediately, dropping to one knee. "Master…" he murmured. "I am Acolyte Slaar, Supreme Prophet, and I am at your service."

"Rise, Acolyte…" Millennial responded, eyeing the small brand placed at the back of the Iridonian's neck that marked him as the selected student of a Prophet of the Dark Side. "Lead me to the rest of the survivors."

"Yes, Supreme Prophet." The Acolyte replied, obeying immediately and leading Millennial down into the depths of the temple. Down the winding corridors of the abandoned temple the Iridonian led him in complete silence. It was not the Acolyte's place to question the Supreme Prophet, and therefore the trip was as short as possible. They finally arrived in the medical wing of the temple, the only part that looked like beings had attempted to repair the majority of it.

A trio of medical droids was hovering around the only occupant of the wing, a gravely wounded Dorian lying on the farthest bed. The masked alien turned his head as Millennial approached and Millennial recognized the wheezing voice of one of the High Prophets that had led the religion under him, Lath Dass'in.

"Supreme Prophet…" he rasped, holding one clawed hand toward the mutant, "I knew you'd return to us. I had foreseen it, my Lord…"

Millennial stood over the wounded Kel Dor, examining the readings that the med droids had collected. It was bad, the High Prophet had been badly burned, and there were several fractures and deep lacerations, presumably from lightsabers and other swords, if the patterns were any indication. None of these injures were fatal however, and the orange alien would recover, in time.

"What happened," Millennial demanded of the Acolyte, who had not left the room, but stood respectfully at the doorway. Slaar stepped forward quickly, "We were attacked by a splinter faction that had grown tired of the Dark Force's approach to the Dark Side. They were swayed by the power and majesty of the Sith Lord that had destroyed so many of us before you left. We were so greatly diminished in the conflict that the majority of remainder of the Order simply deserted us, leaving for regions unknown. Only the six of us remained here, faithful in the prophecies of your return from our High Prophet, my Lord."

Millennial nodded, thoughts swirling. There were six beings here, out of hundreds, still loyal to the Dark Force and by extension, him. It was more than he had expected, to be honest, "Who are the others?" he asked.

The Iridonian paused for a moment before speaking, "Twi'lek Prophet Lotu'an, three Neophytes, all humans… Srilis, Jenah and Kelrek are their names I believe, High Prophet Dass'in and myself, my Lord."

Millennial nodded, smiling inwardly, three humans, and Neophytes to boot. Lowest of the rankings of the order, they would do anything to please their Supreme Prophet, including accompanying him back to the backwater planet Earth for the duration of Veneficus' training. Millennial had no intentions of staying on the planet longer than necessary, and as soon as this Hogwarts had finished being useful to his apprentice, they would depart, taking all the wealth of their inherited families with them to add to the Sith coffers. The massive amounts of pure gold alone would substantially fuel the efforts of their cause.

"Very good, I thank you Acolyte." Millennial responded, dismissing the burly alien. Turning back to High Prophet Lath, Millennial spoke quickly, "Since my departure, I have been fully invested in furthering the work of the Dark Side, and since my ascension to Sith Master, I intend to merge the two Orders into a unified Dark Side society. As the chosen of the Force, I ordain you as Supreme Prophet of the Dark Side in my stead, and command you to bring the Prophets of the Dark Side back into power. You will have Prophet Lotu'an and Acolyte Slaar at your disposal. I require the services of your three human Neophytes, and will be taking them with me, along with two dozen droids. I also need to know if there have been any discoveries of artifacts from the old Sith Empire on this planet by the Dark Force in my absence."

The Supreme Prophet coughed loudly before answering shakily, "You shall have them my Lord… and the three Neophytes should be returning from an expedition to find lost artifacts shortly. Other than that, we have a small collection that you may look over."

"Very good Supreme Prophet, recover soon. We have no space for weakness in Dark Side. Soon the followers of the Dark Side of the Force will return to the glory of the ancients."

"Yes my Lord." The Kel Dorian replied, lying back to rest as Darth Millennial turned and left the medical chambers, Acolyte Slaar leading him to the vault of treasures that the Dark Force had found from the ruins on the planet. There they met Prophet Lotu'an, and Darth Millennial raised the Twi'lek Dark Jedi to the rank of High Prophet, to begin the reformation of the Dark Council of the Sith, and gave him orders to seek out more followers of the Dark Side who would join them to prepare in secret to crush the Jedi underfoot.

As he perused the recovered artifacts, Millennial was interrupted by the joyous shouts of the returning Neophytes, who entered the room, an actual Sith Holocron clutched in the male's hand. If Millennial had not already been of the mind to take the three with him, he would have greatly considered it as reward for this accomplishment alone.

The three Neophytes kneeled as the Dark Lord approached, and gingerly taking the Holocron from the leader's hand, he let the Dark Side flow over the black pyramid. It flared to life with red crackling electricity, fully functional and in working order. From the top of the small device, a tiny figure appeared, hooded and cloaked so that Millennial couldn't tell what species exactly the being was, but it was defiantly male from the voice.

"_I am Darth Zeemar, Lord of the Sith and High Consular of the Sith Empire_…"

The Dark Lord of the Sith actually smiled as he deactivated the recovered Holocron and explained his plans to the three eager Neophytes.

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Albus Dumbledore was worried. Something was definitely wrong with Harry Potter, and he needed to get to the bottom of what had gone so utterly wrong with his plan. The boy simply wasn't cooperating with what Albus had set in motion for him. The boy was supposed to come from an abusive family, attention starved and friendless, and enter their world with people like Hagrid and the Weasleys around him to steer him onto the correct path of thinking, but when Hagrid had gone to the Dursley residence to pick up Harry, the house had been deserted. It was later that Albus learned of the brutal tragedy that had befall the last of Harry's relations, and he had been forced to sent Severus, the only wizard he trusted that had a keen knowledge of the muggle world, to find the boy.

And he had, but the strangest thing was that Severus could not remember even the most minuscule detail of the encounter. Albus had checked over and over for any sort of magical means of shrouding the memories, but they simply were not there, as if they had been forcefully removed from the spy's mind. And what was worse, after that Harry had not met up with the Weasleys at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, but had arrived far earlier, and Ron Weasley had had no ability to befriend the boy before the Malfoy child had gotten his claws into him.

Now the boy was fully indoctrinated as a Slytherin, probably learning the pureblood philosophies even as Albus sat in his office at this moment, and there was little he could do to stop it. No one had ever successfully changed houses before in the history of Hogwarts. The Hat's decision was final, end of story. It was maddening; Albus mused, and almost like everything he had done came out with the opposite of the desired effect. Even now, the spell he had put on the youngest Weasley had broken, and a bitter rivalry had broken out between him and Harry, thereby severing the only possible link that Albus thought would work between the boy and the house of Godric.

Glancing at James Potter's invisibility cloak in his desk drawer, Albus remembered the Stone he had stashed down the Third Floor. It may as well be his only hope of turning Harry back to the Light, and thinking of the first obstacle, he had a very good idea how to start him on his way to figuring out his little test.

Standing, and shutting the drawer with the cloak in it, Albus decided he needed to pay a little visit to Hagrid, offering advice and 'entrusting' a few more secrets to the gamekeeper, the half giant had been the one to pull Harry from the wreckage of Godric's Hollow after all. He would love a chance to talk to Harry one on one for a while… and if recent newspapers were left where anyone could see, perhaps a certain three headed dog would come up in conversation…

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Veneficus raised one eyebrow at the note that his snowy owl, Traya, named after the Fallen Jedi turned Sith Lord that had trained Darth Revan, had brought him. It was an untidy scrawl from the Hogwarts Gamekeeper, Hagrid.

'_Harry,_

_I knew your parents when you were just a baby, and as you've never really gotten the chance to hear about them, I was just wondering if you'd fancy coming and having a cup of tea with me sometime around three this afternoon._

_Please sent a note back if you can come._

_Hagrid, Hogwart's Gamekeeper._'

The difficult part was trying to decide if it was some kind of trick to lure him away from the school, or an honest attempt to get to know Veneficus… either way was bad for him, but if it was bait from persons unknown, then he had no choice but to act as an unsuspecting eleven year old, and not a wizened Sith.

So, he turned the note over and wrote, '_Yes, please. See you later._' On the back before returning the note to his owl, and the bird took off out the high windows of the Great Hall.

"What was that about?" Draco asked casually, as if it wasn't odd for Veneficus to receive mail, even though it was his first letter since he arrived.

"Nothing, just someone asking to meet me at three…" the Sith responded, returning to his meal. Zychre was off exploring the castle secretly, and Veneficus had ensured this by casting a spell he had learned from an advanced book, the Disillusionment charm, upon the little snake.

As they exited the Great Hall to head to their first classes, Veneficus was stopped by an angry Ronald Weasley, flanked by two other Gryffindor first years. "What, back for another broken nose, Weasley?" Draco said, smirking at the pink tinge that crept from the red head's ears. Veneficus said nothing, waiting to see how this turned out.

"I could've won if it was a fair fight…" Weasley said, balling his fists, but Veneficus could hear the tiny twinge of fear in his voice. "You and me Potter, tonight at midnight, wizards' duel in the trophy room…what, never heard of it before?"

Veneficus had read greatly about wizards and their flawed form of combat duels, and he had no intention of wasting his time to trounce Weasley again, but he had a small plan, "My second is Draco… who's yours?"

"Dean…" Weasley said, and the black boy at his side stepped forward. "See you there…" he continued, storming past them and knocking roughly into Draco's shoulder.

"What are you thinking?" Draco whined as they hurried to Defense Against the Dark Arts, which they had with the Hufflepuffs. "I know what I'm doing Draco, remember that." Veneficus snapped back, just as they entered the room, but he paused as pain shot through his scar.

"Harry, what…?" Draco started, but Veneficus hushed him, the pain gone as quickly as it started. The young Sith tugged the other Slytherin to the usual seats, mind reeling and pushing out with the Dark Side. Professor Quirrell had not bothered to turn around from spelling their lesson on the board. But, reaching out, Veneficus felt a sort of darkness surrounding the professor, not Force related, but magical in nature. Something tingled in the back of his mind, warning the Sith Lord that something about today, that the wizards called Halloween, was not going to have productive endings for him.

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Hermione had been looking forward to Charms class the entire day. Most of the rest of the Ravenclaws and Slytherins were as well, as they finally were going to attempt the Levitation Charm for the first time. Little professor Flitwick, Hermione's head of house, began the lesson by putting the class into pairs, one feather to practice on between them.

Unfortunately, said pairs tended to be inter-house, such as Flitwick putting Harry Potter with Terry Boot, and assigner Hermione with Draco Malfoy. 'Great,' Hermione thought as she moved to sit next to the arrogant blond boy.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too… Never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

It was rather difficult, and many students were having great difficulty with the charm, despite their house traits. The first to actually accomplish it was Harry, who sent the feather zooming around the room, and earning Flitwick's approval and five points to Slytherin.

Draco looked extremely frustrated with his attempts with the charm, starting to thrash his wand instead of swishing. "Stop, stop, stop," Hermione pleaded, holding out a hand to stop his arm, "You're going to put someone's eye out. Besides your saying it wrong…" Draco's eyes flashed at her and he jerked away from her to avoid being touched. Hermione continued on anyways, "Its, Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long…"

"I don't need your help, but why don't you do it if you think you're so clever." Malfoy snarled back.

Hermione rolled up her sleeves, flicked her wand and intoned the incantation clearly and simply. Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "See here everyone, Miss Granger has done it as well…"

Draco put his head on his textbook and sulked for the rest of the lesson.

After the class, the Slytherin and Ravenclaw first years started to head down to the Halloween Feast. Hermione was just behind Harry and Draco, and unfortunately was privy to the blond complaints to his friend. "She's a nightmare, honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends, the jumped up little Mudblood…" Hermione never heard the rebuke from Harry, she had already sprinted away, banging into someone's shoulder as she sprinted for the nearest bathroom.

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Veneficus got shunted sideways for an instant as Hermione Granger shoved past him, clearly having heard Draco's rant. The Sith Lord seized the blond boy by the front of his robes and dragged him into a secluded hallway. Roughly handling him into a wall, Veneficus breathed angrily, "Now listen closely, Draco Malfoy. I have tolerated your prejudices long enough. Hermione Granger, despite her flaws, could be very useful. Someone capable of memorizing textbooks in mere weeks, I can definitely say you couldn't do better at research or studying. Insult her again, and I will be forced to take action."

Draco seemed to quail under the Sith Lord's anger. Darth Veneficus released him, straightening up and starting back toward the Great Hall, "Come Draco, the feast will start soon…"

A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling of the Great Hall while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start of term banquet. Veneficus huffed at the unnecessary amount of fanfare and garishness at such a poorly conceived holiday, but that didn't stop him from enjoying several of the special dishes that they normally didn't receive.

Sadly, the festivities didn't last long, as Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall a good fifteen minutes into the feast, turban askew and terror etched in his face. Veneficus looked on lazily as the awkward man stumbled up to the Headmaster's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll… in the dungeons… thought you ought to know."

And with that the man collapsed into a dead faint.

The students screamed and panic ensued. The young Sith apprentice sat calmly, actually choosing to continue his interrupted meal as several large firecrackers exploded from Dumbledore's wand.

"Prefects," the old wizard rumbled, silencing the last of the panicking students, "lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Veneficus rolled his eyes, it would be so much easier to just keep them in the Great Hall, but it was clearly some complicated rouse or something. The Sith apprentice didn't try to understand the old man's motives since meeting with Hagrid that afternoon. The giant oaf had almost blatantly spilled that the giant three headed dog was guarding something important to Dumbledore and some man named Nicholas Flamel.

The Lord of the Sith was returned from his thoughts by a Slytherin Prefect approaching, fully intent of forcing Veneficus to his feet. Leveling an icy gaze on the older boy, the Prefect halted mid-step, and continued right past, leaving Veneficus free to rise on his own.

Joining the crowd of Slytherin heading across the entrance hall to the stairway to their common room, Veneficus was soon joined at his side by Draco. "How could a troll get in?" Draco said concernedly, "Not on its own, clearly…" Veneficus responded, before realizing that Hermione was still somewhere near the Charms corridor, probably a girl's bathroom if anywhere. "Hermione…" he whispered. The potential of her assistance weighted against the urge to prevent attracting attention, and won. "Come on…" he ordered Draco, and together the pair of them, shrouded by the Dark Side to avoid being seen, sprinted up to the third floor.

With the aid of the Force, Veneficus located Hermione quickly, skirting around Professor Snape, who was seem running toward the forbidden corridor, but Veneficus ignored the ramifications for now, intent on at least informing Hermione of the danger and escaping before anything happened.

It was too late.

As they rounded the last corner to the girl's lavatory, Veneficus and Draco saw the troll entering the bathroom. "Excellent, we can trap it," Draco said quickly, stepping forward.

"No you fool, Hermione is in there." Veneficus snarled, just as the girl screamed from within. Not hesitating, forgetting the presence of Draco next to him, Veneficus pushed out with the Force, flinging the door to the bathroom inward and slamming them against their hinges.

The troll was large, nearly twelve feet, and granite gray in colour. Veneficus registered nothing else, expect that it had Hermione back up into a corner, and was raising its club to strike her dead. Summoning all his frustration and anger, the Dark Lord of the Sith raised both hands, yelling as he shot thin bolts of blue lightning at the troll.

Caught off guard, the troll howled, more in surprise than pain, as the electricity zipped and zinged off its skin, leaving small burns on its toughened hide. Hermione and Draco looked on, wide eyed in shock, as Veneficus switched tactics, snapping his wrist out and drawing his lightsaber.

With the traditional snap-hiss the crimson blade illuminated the room, casting everything into a red hue. The troll studied the weapon for a moment, before bellowing a challenge and swinging its club, intending to smash the small Sith Lord under its brute strength.

Dodging to the left, Veneficus avoided the crushing blow, scoring several light grazes on his foe's midsection and legs, but the gleaming energy blade couldn't penetrate the grayish hide of the troll. Howling in annoyance, the troll swept in a wide arc, knocking the Sith across the room. Veneficus landed heavily, shattering a sink and sending the porcelain scattering across the floor.

Hermione had fainted at this point, scared out of her mind, and Veneficus let the pain flow through his body, fueling the Dark Side and his rage at the hulking beast. Thrusting out both hands, he returned the favor the Troll had paid him, flinging the animal across the room with a powerful telekinetic blast. One giant dent in the wall later, and the troll was roaring in pain and surprise, losing its grip on its club as it struggled to remove itself from the stone wall.

Veneficus stood, pain shooting through his left ankle as he shuffled towards the struggling troll. Applying pressure with the Force, Veneficus pinned the troll against the wall, simultaneously summoning over the fallen club and smashing it repeatedly into its owner's head. The club broke after the fourth hit, splintering against the thick skull.

Snarling in irritation and pain, the Dark Lord gathered a massive amount of anger and hatred, squeezing on the windpipe of the huge creature. Gurgling, waving its arms in a dead panic, the troll grew sluggish, until with a small groan of escaping air, the troll went limp, dead from suffocation.

The heat of battle fading, Darth Veneficus noticed immediately the amount of pain he was in. Two ribs were fractured and his ankle was badly twisted. He had several lacerations on his body from the shattered porcelain, some rather deep, and the ringing in his head was becoming worrisome.

Sinking to his knees, unable to support his weight any longer, Veneficus allowed himself to grit his teeth against the pain. Draco sprinted over to support him, just as Professors McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell arrived.


	6. AN

**So, its been pointed out by several keen eyed readers, (as well as noticed by myself after the fact) that i'm starting to make a ton of typos. firstly, I apologize greatly for that, its a long and difficult to explain process that can be summed up by two words... **

**I'm human...**

**Anyway, I feel the need had arison for me to get a beta reader for this story, as typos, among other things, cannot be tolerated. So if anyone would like to, applications are being looked over now.**

**preferable is someone with starwars and/or Harry Potter lore ingrained in their minds, but at minimum a keen eye and the love of proper grammer and spelling is required...**

**oh, and also, theres an explination to some of the... ****_seemingly_**** off things of this chapter... like Harry ****_'carring'_**** about others and lightsabers not cutting through trolls, and they will be explained within one to two chapters in the future. trust me that it is indeed part of the plot and that there is METHOD TO MY MADNESS, as often as there isn't, but in this case there is, i can promice that...**

**Faykan**


	7. AN2

**Due to unwelcome Hurricane activity, my Beta's ability to communicate with me has been knocked out completly. sadly he was just about finished with the next chapter, so I cannot in good consience post yet without reestablishing contact with him and getting that edited copy to perfectly finalize the chapter.**

**I know this causes problems, especially with the Saber + Troll = not disarmed problem, but thats the story of my life. Please continue with your patience, and I thank you for waiting so long without an update, normally I would be freaking out myself right not except for my outlet of writing, meaning that I am actually several chapters ahead of what you've read, which is good for everyone.**

**Anyway, just to at minimal settle SOME of the problems people are having (and I would like to metiuon right now that if you can phrase your conern someway plesant or constructive, i'd rather not see or hear you, as I'd take it as a personal offence after asking for CONSTRUCTIVE critism) but looking into the lightsaber issue.**

**Riddle this out, its nothing to do with the lightsaber, but the combination of the Troll's passive defenses and the method of the attacker when wielding his weapon.**

**Will be fully explained whenever i finally get that chapter up, hopefully as soon as the eatern coast gets power again...**

**Faykan**


	8. Chapter 5

**So, i was afraid this would happen, but my beta has still not responded, and I can only assume he still lacks power, so I will post now, and when I get contact with him again, if... I will repost the edited/expanded chapters over the old ones, and make mention of it during newer chapters and/or ANs. so keep an eye out for that... So... you've waited, you've wondered, and you've argued. but here is the next chapter! Review!**

**Chapter Five**

**Dark Side Rising**

Severus winced as he staggered away from the forbidden corridor. He had come up here while Albus and the other teachers were scrambling around the dungeons looking for the supposed troll, leaving the way to the stone unguarded. Severus, ever the suspicious one, decided to head off whomever, he and Albus suspected Quirrell, had released it in the case of it being a distraction.

Sadly for him, he was the first to arrive, and stepped too far into the room with the Cerberus, and the vile creature's teeth had sunken deeply into his calf, although thankfully not severing anything vital. Quirrell arrived just as Severus had escaped, and gave a pathetic excuse of him and Severus having the same thought about the troll being a distraction, but they were interrupted as Minerva, quickly followed by Albus had charged past, and they followed.

The chase led them to a girls bathroom near the forbidden corridor, and the sight within paused even Severus' stone cold heart. The troll was there, smashed against the far wall, so deep that a hole had been punched into the enchanted stone, as well as three first years; Draco, Potter, and the Ravenclaw Granger.

"Oh my goodness," Minerva gasped, stepping back at the sight of the clearly dead troll. Its head hung and the skin of the face was bluish, instead of the natural grey. The beast seemed to have suffocated, but that lead to many more questions. Potter was kneeling on the floor, also injured, with Draco supporting the boy from collapsing, and the Ravenclaw girl was unconscious.

"Explain yourselves, please." Albus said calmly, and Severus almost saw the blasted twinkling in the old man's eyes that suggested that he was pleased at a plan succeeding.

"Troll… Hermione… Didn't …Know…" Potter gasped, struggling to speak around his increasingly haggard breathing. Severus registered that several ribs had been broken, and he swooped down on the two Slytherin first years, pushing Draco toward the Headmaster to answer the man's questions as he tended to Potter. Pulling out a pain relief potion, Severus uncorked the stopper and held it to the boy's lips, holding his back to keep the boy sitting upright.

To his great annoyance, Potter turned away from the potion after one sniff, gritting his teeth as he moved the broken bones. "You will take the potion, Potter, or I will put you to sleep. You are in far too much pain to be stubborn…" Severus said irritably.

"Don't… want… dullness…" Potter gasped out.

"Well, then you'll have to get used to your current threshold of pain, and the trip to the hospital wing is a long one. Now take the potion or I will make you."

Potter glared at him for a moment, and Severus almost dropped the boy as he saw the irises of the boy's normally green eyes flash orange. He blinked, and the horrid sight was gone. Cursing the mental strain his own pain was giving him, Severus again offered the vial, and Potter finally took it, swallowing the liquid and closing his eyes as the potion took effect.

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Albus listened intently as Draco Malfoy gave his impression of what transpired after he and Harry entered the bathroom in pursuit of Hermione Granger and the troll. The boy was stammering, and wouldn't meet the old wizard's eyes, with silently annoyed Albus, as he was therefore unable to simply use legilimency and discern the truth without having to trust the word of the son of Lucius Malfoy.

"…and then… Harry leapt in and cast this spell, uh, gashing the troll all over with small cuts… but since it was a troll it really didn't do much… finally he just used a blasting curse on it, and it shot into the wall…" the boy was saying, hesitating every few seconds and constantly looking back at Harry and Severus, who apparently was trying to get the boy to take a pain relief potion.

"Alright Mr. Malfoy, I think that's all we need to know…" Albus said, ushering the boy over to Minerva as he went to inspect the troll closer. The head of Gryffindor had already summoned Madam Pomfrey and taken away Miss Granger, who had not regained consciousness, as was currently leading away young Draco as well. Severus conjured a stretcher and also took Harry away. Quirrell had simply left early on.

Albus was not worried, the man's attempt on the stone had been foiled for now, and that was all that mattered. Approaching the rank carcass, Albus noticed immediately that the large creature had been throttled to death. Shaking his head in wonder, Albus tried to wrap his brilliant mind at how an eleven year old managed to suffocate a fully grown mountain troll until it died. It just didn't add up. Even the many smaller wounds littering the troll's body were just as confusing as the method of its demise. They were clearly burns, not cuts. Young Malfoy's story didn't agree with the hard evidence, and neither Harry nor Miss Granger was in any condition to back up or deny the tale.

Albus sighed. The puzzle was beyond his ability to solve, at least for now, and Albus decided to postpone solving it until a later time. The positive part that came out of this was that Albus was confirmed at Harry's innate goodness despite being in Slytherin. The boy had gone out of his way to rescue another student, even to the endangerment of his own life. This told Albus that even with the slight deviations in his plan for the boy, he was still on course to defeat Voldemort, and that Albus didn't need to resort to other means to push the boy along.

It was not ideal, but Albus would take it, especially when the alternative was Voldemort returning to power and destroying everything the aged wizard held dear.

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Veneficus grunted angrily as he awoke surrounded by the sickly white of the infirmary. Frowning, the young Sith Lord sat up into a meditative position and used the Force to take an inventory of his injuries. Broken ribs mended, ankle good as new, concussion gone, it all checked out. Veneficus made a mental note to learn medical magic as fast as possible. Powerful though the Dark Side was, it lacked the ability to heal the user, without causing collateral damage to a victim, and most of the time finding someone to drain the life from was just not possible.

The ward matron bustled in just them, pausing as the Sith Apprentice returned to lying down, and ran her wand over his prone body. It made Veneficus uncomfortable to have the tool and weapon so close to him in another's hand, but the woman soon removed it, declared him fully healed, and released him to the school at large.

It was about noon, Harry found as he cast a quick time charm they learned early on in the school year, and most of the other students would be in the Great Hall having lunch. Veneficus was almost to the entrance hall when he was forced to duck behind a statue. The Weasley twins were covering the stairs with some sort of potion, probably to enchant the next person who used them with some prank. Veneficus watched the two pranksters as they prepped there pointless trick, until one of the boys pulled a strange looking piece of parchment out of his pocket and muttered over it with his wand. The Gryffindor's eyes grew wide and he called to his twin. Quickly they collected their things and started to sprint for the far corridor. Haphazardly the one twin tucked the parchment back into his pocket, but not far enough.

Acting quickly, Veneficus pulled with the Force as the twins rounded the far corner, drawing the parchment out of the boy's pocket and back through the air toward him. The folded parchment entered the shadowy nook he was hidden in just as Filch arrived on the scene, storming up the stairs and triggering the prank. Clouds of sparkling mist exploding around the old caretaker, glowing many different colours and lingering as the man swore loudly and charged up the stairs, passing behind a tapestry and out of sight.

Veneficus smirked slightly before turning his attention to the captured piece of parchment. Unfolding it gently, the young Sith's eyes gleamed with glee as he saw a well drawn map of Hogwarts school and the surrounding area. There were even dots representing every individual inside the boundaries of the school's grounds. '_This will be most useful_,' Veneficus thought, tracing a route around the main staircase to the Great Hall. It would even help him avoid Draco until he formulated how best to convert him fully to the cause of the Sith, now that the boy knew of his powers. Tucking his newfound map into his own pocket, Veneficus continued to the Great Hall, taking a newfound secret passage to avoid the trapped staircase.

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Draco didn't know what to believe anymore. He had seen Harry's face as he _battled_ with the troll, contorted with pure rage and eyes blazing with orange fire. To say it shocked Draco to his core was an understatement. And now same said boy was avoiding him like the plague, just when Draco was expecting answers. It was just… all those signs and powers that Harry had expressed, they had to be the marks of a powerful dark wizard…

But even if Harry Potter was Dark, Draco would want to be his friend, and more than likely most of Slytherin would still flock around him, as they were less biased against Dark vs. Light wizards. Unfortunately, Draco had to find Harry and explain it first.

Thankfully, classes were somewhere would Draco couldn't be avoided. Sitting down in his usual spot next to Harry in Transfiguration, which they had with the Hufflepuffs, Draco noticed the spare piece of parchment that Harry was hunched over, and widened his eyes at the detailed and clearly enchanted map. "What the…" he said quietly, but a hard look from Harry silenced him.

"Harry, we need to talk, soon…" Draco said after Professor McGonagall set them to change a matchbox to the size of a music box.

"Yes…" Harry replied as McGonagall passed them, nodding at their progress, "We certainly do…" Draco wasn't sure if he liked the tone of Harry's voice as he said it in retrospect.

That evening, locked in the first year's dormitory while the others still mingling or studying in the common room, Draco finally got to ask Harry the burning question. "Harry, what the bloody hell happened when you attacked that troll?!"

Harry raised a single eyebrow, but didn't respond as Draco continued to rant, "I mean, first you come off all cold and uncaring, but then we go charging off after Granger when she's not even a Slytherin, and _then_, you go all Dark Wizard on that troll, firing freaking lightning from your hands. And what was with that sword you tried before SNAPPING ITS NECK WITHOUT TOUCHING IT!? I MEAN WHAT ARE YOU!?"

Draco was shouting by the end of it, and Harry casually flicked his wand at the door, muttering a silencing ward to keep the noise in the room. Heaving his fury, Draco seethed, and noticed his senses focusing as his anger rose. Harry seemed to notice as well, because he smirked. "Do you honestly think, that after seeing what I did to a fully grown mountain troll, that yelling at me is a good idea?"

Draco paused for a moment, worried. "If that was the case, you wouldn't have let me go on as long as I did…" he said slowly, calculating the situation.

Harry chuckled, slow and cold, "Yes, that's true. If you had no use to me whatsoever, you would have been disposed of long ago."

Standing from his desk chair, Harry strode slowly to the open space in front of the door. Complete with the wide grin on his face, Draco was suddenly very afraid of the boy.

"What am I you ask…?" Harry repeated slowly, and Draco's eyes widened as an unnatural wind kicked up around his legs. "That's a rather complicated question you know… I am human, naturally… but I am also so much MORE!" Harry said, reaching both hands up and letting loose crackling blue electricity that sparked and danced around the air above him.

The show of pure power set Draco's hair on end, and deep down, sparked a craving to perform such feats himself.

"I am not merely some pathetic Dark Wizard like your _Lord_ Voldemort…" Harry continued, voice increasing as the strange power swirled around them, "I am Sith, born and bred to wield the unlimited powers of the Force, the energy that binds the universe together, and with it, bury all who oppose me under my feet."

Draco's legs gave out. Sinking to his knees, his mind registered the awe inspiring visage before him. Harry's eyes burned like miniature suns, red orange gleaming through the gloom of night and his face was cast into eerie light from the dancing bolts of lightning. And suddenly, the power vanished, and Draco felt, if anything, weaker in its absence then when it came.

Draco looked up to see Harry standing over him, lamp like eyes boring down into him, "And you, Draco Malfoy. You have the same potential to wield the Force. It was your gift at birth, both a wizard and a Force sensitive. Join me, and we will carve our own destinies from this world, and… beyond it."

Draco felt a deep yearning swell inside him. He wanted nothing more than to become as powerful as Harry had just shown himself to be. Then, his Father would truly be proud of him. "I will do anything you ask…" Draco paused, before affixing a title worthy of the power Harry possessed, "My Lord."

"Swear it…" Harry said, and the words had a sickly feel to it as Draco heard them.

"I swear, upon my life and my magic, to obey and serve you…" Draco said, before pausing. Swearing to the name of Harry Potter seemed wrong, like that wasn't the boy standing over him.

"Lord Veneficus, Dark Lord of the Sith…" the Sith supplied for him.

"…Lord Veneficus, Dark Lord of the Sith, for the entirety of my life, in return for the learning of your power of the Force. So mote it be…" Draco finished. Magic swirled, binding the oath in Draco's very bones. If he were to break it now, his entire skeleton would shatter, killing him instantly.

"Good…" Lord Veneficus said, bidding Draco to rise. "Rise my Acolyte, and receive a new name. One the world will learn to fear for all time. Henceforth you will be known as… Lord Anguis, Sith Acolyte…"

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Veneficus smiled as his new Dark Jedi Acolyte, Lord Anguis, join his side as they left the next day to explore again for a place for the Sith apprentice to train. It was a weekend, and they were free for the entire day. Most other students were feverishly working on homework or other pursuits and that left them without anyone to distract them from the task of searching the castle.

Veneficus would uphold his word to his newest disciple, and would indeed train him in the ways of the Dark Side. Was he an apprentice, and therefore making Veneficus in violation of the Rule of Two? If his master was any other Sith Lord, then probably yes. However, Darth Millennial was his master, and the three eyed mutant had serious misgivings for the common interpretation of Bane's Rule, mainly about _only_ two beings existing who learned the nature of the Dark Side, and therefore he took control, as Master of the Dark Side, and reinterpreted it, allowing for many Dark Side users, but only one true Sith Master, and one true Sith Apprentice under said Master. All others were to be weaker Acolytes or Dark Jedi, pawns in the grand game against the Jedi and the Republic that supported them.

Nevertheless, Veneficus had no intentions on teaching more than the boy needed to know, keeping him well beyond the power required to overthrow his new masters. But there was plenty of time for that later on, as they must first find a secluded place to practice the techniques and abilities of the Dark Side without intrusion.

Veneficus sidestepped as a pair of other first years sprinted past him and Anguis, laughing as they played some childish game. The Sith apprentice frowned momentarily, before recovering himself. It was indeed tiring to be surrounded by such weakness every day, and grating on his wearing patience. If an outlet wasn't found soon, Veneficus wasn't sure how long the annoyance could build before it flooded over as pure hatred and he did something that would not be so easily ignored.

The troll had probably been too much as it was, but mercifully the esteemed fool of a Headmaster had seemed to overlook or outright ignore the glaring evidence of something being out of place. Hopefully it was the old man going senile, but Veneficus suspected that the aged Headmaster was playing a much longer game, holding onto his cards until the last possible moment.

The irony of the Sith-like attitude of this world's 'leader of the light' was amusing, but Veneficus was more focused on using his newfound map to explore every inch of the castle for somewhere, anywhere secluded.

Hours later, Veneficus and Anguis ended their search in a long corridor on the seventh floor. Every spot on the map they checked, and nothing, nothing had been good enough. Veneficus was starting to lose patience with this. Even just heading into the forest would have been easier, and he was a fool for not going with that plan instead. Pausing in front of a hideous tapestry, he seethed for a minute, pacing side to side in front of it as he thought about where he could train in total secrecy, in or out of the castle.

Suddenly, a quiet grinding sound behind the two young Force users' attracted their attention. They turned, and their eyes widened, Anguis' in shock and Veneficus' in cold calculation. A door had appeared behind them, across the hall from the tapestry of dancing trolls in pink tutus. "What do you think?" Anguis said, indicating the door?

In answer, Veneficus strode over and pushed the door open, stepping into a long room lit with the same old torches as the rest of the castle. Lining the wall were shelves of books and other things that even the young Sith Lord didn't recognize. But what truly attracted his attention were the three stone figures in the middle of the long room. Each was roughly the size of a man, clutching metal swords in their hands and seemingly standing at attention, waiting for some sort of trigger or command.

As his Acolyte entered behind him and the door shut, Veneficus felt the magic of the castle sink around the door. He knew instinctively that the castle had hidden the door completely, and that no one but himself and those he showed it to would be able to find it again. Magic, it seemed, was very unparticular about those it helped. '_This will prove most engaging_,' Veneficus thought as he activated his lightsaber and finally let the pent up fury surge through him, leaping at the nearest golem and attacking it.

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On the outlying planet of Zygerrian near the boarders of Wild Space, the Dark Jedi Zhar Quelmok lounged casually in one of the small and dirty cantinas of the Royal Capital. A race of catlike near humans, the Zygerrians were predators by nature, and the streets of their capital was a dangerous place for those they considered beneath them, or prey. Zhar was not worried about attacks from the locals, no he was more concerned with was the Jedi Order following him to the remote world in pursuit of their so called justice.

The human ex Jedi had abandoned the Order after a disastrous trip to Korriban, in direct defiance of his old Master's orders. Deep in the vile tombs Zhar had been confronted by a specter of the long dead Sith Lord Ludo Kressh. The things that the young Jedi had seen, the power he had felt, convinced him of the error of all Jedi, and the pure power that existed in the Dark Side. He had tried to convince his wayward Master when the Cerean came to the planet to 'rescue' him.

The battle that ensued between Zhar and Master Ta-Ras-Min then had ended in a stalemate, with Zhar fleeing from the planet and taking a random hyperspace route to throw off anyone from his trail. Now he was here on this far flung planet with nowhere to go and nothing to keep himself occupied except drinking various local drinks and occasionally stealing from the wealthier of the Zygerrians to keep a steady supply of credits under his name. It wasn't the life that Zhar had envisioned, but he felt that waiting here was the right thing to do until fortune turned his way again. Or until the Jedi found him again, whichever came first.

'And speaking of Jedi,' Zhar thought as he glanced at the door to the cantina. A female Twi'lek had just entered, and he could sense the Force around her. The Twi'lek paid no attention to him as she walked calmly to the bar and ordered herself a drink, sitting in a far corner of the cantina and watching the rest of the room. Zhar knew better, as he could feel her examining every occupant in the building with the Force, and he needed to leave before she figured out who he was.

Standing with an exaggerated stretch, he made his way to the door, casually dropping off his empty glass and several small credit chips with the bartender before ducking outside. He didn't make it far, before he felt the Twi'lek following him. Turning down a long alleyway, Zhar hoped to outpace the woman and get away, but no such luck. The Twi'lek was doggedly following his presence like a bloodhound. Finally he whirled on her, leaping into the air and igniting his saber, the orange blade singing as he swung at her head. He wouldn't be taken by the Jedi, and would kill her if he needed to.

The alien woman reacted swiftly, her own crimson blade igniting to block. Zhar was taken aback. Red colored blades were banned from the Jedi Order, and the Sith were supposedly extinct. The woman took no time in capitalizing on Zhar's moment of surprise, snap kicking him in the gut, then slapping his saber away with her own weapon. He back away on the ground from her advancing blade, until he was stopped by the wall of a building. The deadly energy beam was inches away from his face as the mysterious woman hissed, "Stay where you are, Jedi, or I'll strike you dead…"

Zhar laughed slightly, frightened slightly by the intimidating presence before him. Now that he was in close proximity, he could feel the Dark Side coming from the Twi'lek. "I'm no Jedi woman, you should know that if you'd…" he interrupted himself by reaching out with the Force to try and strangle the red skinned woman.

At first it seemed to work, and the Twi'lek started to gasp for air, but Zhar couldn't maintain his concentration. His command of the Force attack weakened, and his attacker was able to throw him sideways with a violent push of Force energy. He collided heavily with some durasteel crates, sending him spiraling into the center of the ally. Quickly regaining his feet, Zhar summoned his lightsaber, but stopped before activating it. The Twi'lek hadn't moved since she threw him away from her. She just stood there, looking at Zhar with a curious expression.

"You're no Jedi…" she said slowly, more to herself than to Zhar.

"Oh, Really? What was your first clue?" Zhar replied, still on edge from the recent combat.

"If you're no friend to the Jedi Order, you may well just be the being I need to help me…" she continued, looking thoughtful.

"Err… What?" Zhar said, totally lost now, "Look lady, I haven't a clue what you're talking about."

She looked at him, as if suddenly remembering that he was there. Deactivating her saber, she turned and walked slowly away, "Well, if you want to know, you'd have better come along now."

Zhar watched the woman saunter away, still completely confused. "What in the…" he muttered, before curiosity got the better of him, "Hey wait!" he called, running to catch her. "How do I even know I can trust you? I don't even know your name?"

"Nor I yours," she replied icily, "and you don't know, at least not yet. But I have some things you may be interested in that will buy your trust for now, and a ship to allow you and I to leave this remote world and seek greater power through the Dark Side."

Zhar's eyes widened. Promises of power battled shortly with misgivings for the female that had so easily beaten him, "And you are?" he hinted.

"If you must know, my name is Melina Eris, not that it's important, I simply need another Dark Side user to help me claim some old Sith artifacts."

"Sith artifacts?" Zhar said, disbelieving.

"Shh! Not so loud you fool, or we'll be up to our ears in Jedi before we can leave the system." Melina said scathingly.

Zhar was silent for the rest of the short trip to Melina's ship, docked in a secure part of the local spaceport. It looked like a beat up old freighter, but as long as it got him off the planet, Zhar couldn't have cared less what it looked like. The idea of long forgotten Sith artifacts peaked his interest to the point of putting the recent fight past him.

One inside, he tried to breach the subject again, "So what is this about Sith artifacts?"

Rolling her eyes, Melina sighed from the pilot's chair, "I have the location of an old Sith Temple on the planet Ziost, untouched by the Jedi crack-down of anything related to the Dark Side, but, both the planet and the temple in particular are very dangerous, so I was searching for some means of getting past the powerful Dark Side protections surrounding the temple, and I found you…"

Zhar, nodded, but some things still didn't add up for him, "So, you just want to use me to get past the traps in the temple, but what will I get out of it? Fifty percent, or a lightsaber in the back?"

The Twi'lek glared at him for a moment as they launched into hyperspace. "Yes you will receive half the loot we find, if we survive… but two powerful Force users like ourselves, we shouldn't have too bad of a problem."

Zhar still didn't like the idea, but decided to simply strike at her the first opening when they had something of worth, and take not only whatever artifact they may have found, but her ship as well.

"Fine then" Zhar responded, mind turning over the woman's battle prowess as he settled back for the duration of their journey to the planet Ziost.

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Darth Millennial, along with the three Neophytes of the newly reformed Sith Order, gazed down at the, once glorious, Sith Citadel built by original order of the Sith Lords long ago. The planet had once been covered by great dark forests, which had at the time housed many different beasts and places of the Dark Side that made perfect places to train their apprentices. But no more, the planet Ziost had become a graveyard, much like its cousin Korriban. Where the latter was a desert wasteland, Ziost had been covered by a permanent frost, making the once green world a frozen wilderness.

The only features recognizable were the many Sith monuments that still littered the large continents, and if not for the dark powers still radiating from them, Millennial wouldn't have bothered coming at all. Thankfully he had had very good information from Supreme Prophet Dass'in, and therefore knew that the Jedi had never set foot on the frozen planet, thus leaving untold amount of Sith artifacts and knowledge for the taking.

The ruins of the great building were not dissimilar to the temple on Dromund Kaas, Millennial noticed as his Infiltrator landed in a partially collapsed hanger bay. Clearly Sith architecture had not changed for many hundreds of years, just as the Sith Order itself had not changed until Darth Bane had forced the complete destruction of all previous Sith ideology. Darth Millennial was pulled from his musings by the voice of Neophyte Jenah, one of the two female humans.

"My Lord, sensors are picking up another ship and two sentient life signs inside the citadel."

Millennial eyed the young woman before answering. Both Jenah and the other female, Srilis, were highly proficient lightsaber combatants, each implementing exotic styles of Lightsaber combat, while the only remaining male Neophyte, Kelrek, had devoted the majority of his training in delving into the study of the Force, making him the scholar to their blades. Together the three made a powerful team, explaining greatly their ability to have actually found a Sith Holocron, let alone retrieving it safely.

Extending his senses, Millennial searched the building for the sentient life forms that his ship had found. They weren't deep inside yet, and were apparently working their way deeper still. 'Jedi? Or treasure hunters, searching for Dark Side trinkets for the black market?' regardless, Millennial would deal with them with little effort. The Sith Lord was confident that here, on a planet that was so entrenched in the Dark Side, that he was as close to invincible as one could come. 'We shall deal with them. Come with me Neophytes…" he replied, standing and summoning his weapons.

The three humans followed in the Sith Lord's wake as he led them into the bowels of the citadel, and Millennial could sense their eagerness for battle and excitement at the idea of seeing their leader's powers. They would not be too disappointed, Millennial mused, as they past several disarmed traps of the ancient Sith Empire, apparently sprung and avoided by their prey. With the unhindered progress they were making, they would intercept the two Force Sensitives long before the two beings reached the vaults of the ancient structure.

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Jedi Knight Sorin Kress held high in orbit over the ice planet of Ziost, long lost capital of the Sith Lords, deep in concentration. He had been charged the Jedi High Council to track down and bring the fallen Jedi Zhar Quelmok back to the temple, so that he may be brought to trial for his crimes against the Order, as well as hopefully, his redemption to the Light Side of the Force.

But, during the course of his hunt for the rogue Jedi, Knight Sorin had found something very troubling. Less than a standard hour after he had followed Quelmok to the planet, the Jedi had felt a small tremor in the Force, and an impending darkness enter orbit of the planet, before another ship had descended in the same vector as the ship Quelmok had been aboard had taken. If not for Sorins own ship's cloaking system, and his ability to mask his presence in the Force, the Jedi Knight may have been in trouble.

However, he had gone unnoticed, and waited for the outcome of whatever was going on down on the planet's surface to happen. Normally, Sorin would have gone planetside and scouted the situation himself, but Ziost, along with Korriban and all other of the main worlds the Sith had populated, were strictly off limits to all Jedi. Such mandates were placed purely for their own protection, and Sorin was aware that many Dark Jedi had become what they were over the years, Quelmok included, for failing to heed the council's guidance about these Dark Side infested planets.

So, unless the fallen Jedi was planning to live on the inhospitable planet for the rest of his life, which suited Sorin just fine if he did but he was more realistic, then the other human would eventually leave, allowing Sorin to follow him to his next destination and confront him there.

This other presence, however, was definitely something unexpected, and Sorin activated the communications systems of his Jedi starfighter, hailing the Master that he was to report his mission to, Crego Oprec. The male Thisspiasian was the Temple's current Battle Master, teaching the seven forms of lightsaber combat to the newer generations of Jedi.

"Knight Sorin," the deep voice of the Jedi Battle Master rumbled, "What news do you have to report?"

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Veneficus panted as he shut down his lightsaber. He had spent several hours battling with the magical golems and mentally reviewing several recent events. What he had noticed, along with things he remembered that hadn't been important in the heat of battle, was that his Lightsaber didn't score very deep or lasting blows on the living statues, just as it had with the troll on Halloween.

Luckily, the room that he and Anguis had found supplied a helpful book about such creatures, and within the tome Veneficus read that trolls had extraordinary thick and magically reinforced skin, as well as powerful regenerative abilities. Adding that with his, less than ideal style of combating them, it was clear why he hadn't been able to slay the beast with his weapon. The Lightsaber form of Ataru, the style that Veneficus was most proficient with, due to his lack of physical strength and smaller than average size, focused more on mobility and raining multiple light blows on an enemy, herding a foe to a place more advantageous to the attacker and battering away at their defenses until an opening presented itself.

The drawbacks, however, were that one never put their complete strength into any single swing, and even with the Force amplifying their strength, Veneficus could only draw so much at one time, and then split it between his strength and reflexes, it increased the number of attacks he could make, but lowered the individual power behind each one. Highly useful against a lightsaber wielder or some other foe, but in the case of the troll, or now with these golems, it wasn't the appropriate strategy to utilize.

The same held true for Veneficus' applications of Force Lightning, but in another way. The young Sith had simply not trained in the ability enough to handle an opponent such as a troll yet, and there was just more for the Sith apprentice to learn to become a powerful and capable Force wielder.

Finally putting the book, as well as his thoughts of a new personal training regiment, Veneficus glanced over at his newest disciple. Anguis was quietly working on some essay or another at a small desk. The boy had waited through a good deal of Veneficus' venting battle, but had clearly inevitable lost interest and put his efforts to something productive. As the Sith Lord approached now, however, the blond boy snapped to attention, standing and turning to face his new master.

"Now that I've had a chance to warm up…" Veneficus said, "we can now focus on starting you with the basics of any Force user."

The boy brightened at the thought of starting his instruction, and quickly packed away the book and parchment he had been using into his bag, before joining Veneficus in the center of the room. The three training golems moved to the far side of the room, clearing the way for both Sith and Acolyte to sit upon the stone floor.

"Previously we discussed something about meditation," Anguis said as he sat across from Veneficus, "about focusing on emotion."

The Sith apprentice nodded, "Indeed, that is the first step. Peace is a lie, there is only Passion. I want you to delve into your subconscious mind, allow your thoughts to envelope you, and focus intently on those powerful emotions that drive you, fear, anger, hatred, even… love."

Anguis closed his eyes, and Veneficus could feel the small amounts of the Force the boy could control start to swirl around him, striving to create a deeper connection with the bring that could touch its infinite power.

"I can feel them, and there's… something there, but every time I try to take it, it slips away…" the Acolyte said, frowning slightly as he tried to focus.

"Don't force it, not yet anyway, let it come slowly, and reach out for it, but let it make the first connection to you." Veneficus urged, himself sinking into a relaxed sort of meditation. Something about instructing the boy before him was both soothing and energizing at the same time.

They sat there for a while, Veneficus using calm words and encouragement to nudge the fledgling Force user to make the first cognitive connection with the great powers, just as Millennial had done for Veneficus years ago. It hadn't taken long for him, as Veneficus had been unconsciously using both the Force and magic for most of his life, surviving as he had to with his original _caretakers_.

But after a short time, Veneficus felt the small spark of power from his Acolyte, and the smile that broke the blond boy's face betrayed the pleasure deep with as the boy met for the first time, the grandeur of the Dark Side.

It would take time to shape and mold him, but Veneficus knew that in the end, he had created his first loyal follower.


	9. Chapter 6

**Well, another week passed with no word... very sad, i know... really need to get back into writing mode, got home from a trip and immediatly fell sick, then had an allergic reaction to the medince perscribed... so much fun, still itching even as I type this... anywho... Review please!**

**Chapter Six**

**Seasonal Plots**

Zychre was a very curious ruby cobra, and as such had the desire to explore every inch of this large nest for so many of the adolescent humans and their hive minders, or at least that was how the snake interpreted it. She was aware enough that her outlook on the world was probably very different from her Veneficus, but it made sense to her, and that was all that mattered.

Currently, the little snake was exploring a strange scent she had found on her previous excursions, delving deep into the underbelly of the nest. This nest was colder than she would have liked, but her nest mate was a generous one, and had used his magical powers to give Zychre a cushion of much needed warmth, as well as shrouding the venomous snake from the eyes of the other human younglings. It would probably not be wise if they saw her, he had stated, and while Zychre would have wanted the due attention of the other creatures, accepted that none of them could appreciate her beauty as much as her Veneficus.

Down she crawled, deeper and deeper into the cold metal tunnels, finally ending her journey in a large place that simply reeked of some other snake. Zychre was just wondering what sort of snake could have lived in this place already when the sound of a massive body sliding across stone filled the empty chamber.

"_Who disssturbsss my ssslumber?_" hissed the giant serpent that emerged from the shadows.

Zychre admired the massive male specimen before her before answering, "_I am Zychre, mighty one, and am jussst exploring the nessst of the human I bonded with._"

"_Really now…_" the larger serpent said, amused, "_you, little more than a hatchling, are bonded with a human already? I would very much like to meet another ssspeaker if posssible. It hasss been far too long sssince I've interacted with any other creature. My massster died long ago, charging me to protect this ssschool with my powersss._"

Zychre listened in amazement to the wise ancient serpent, soaking in the many stories and advice the great one had to offer in exchange for companionship. A great desire started to burn inside the little snake, a desire to grow to be powerful and useful to her nest mate, just as Cherix, basilisk familiar of Salazar Slytherin had been to her master.

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Hermione struggled to comprehend the events of Halloween the entire first week of November. It was strange, first Harry acts so mean to Neville, Ron and herself over the Rememberall, then turns around and saves her life, going far out of his way and getting injured in the process. It just didn't add up in Hermione's mind, and it almost had her struggling in classes with the plaguing questions. To cap it all off, there was the horrible moment that Hermione had actually seen Harry in the bathroom before passing out, a terrifying vision of the black haired boy glowing with rage and firing bolts of lightning from his fingertips at the troll.

That last part had to have been a hallucination, Hermione reasoned, as it wasn't physically possible, even with magic. Hermione did notice, however, that Draco Malfoy stuck close to Harry even more than ever now, and several of the other professors would glance for longer than normal at the pair of boys, professor Snape leading the amount of scrutiny. There could be reasonable explanations for all of these, but Hermione couldn't in good conscience form a theory before observing Harry for herself, and she just didn't have the time to do it between classes and homework and studying.

Perhaps the Quidditch match set for next weekend would prove the perfect opportunity for Hermione to make some casual observations about the pair of Slytherins without any distraction or her being noticed by others spying on the Slytherin first years.

Getting into a good position behind the Slytherins in the stands was surprisingly easy at eleven. The pitch was so crowded with many students from every house that one Ravenclaw in the primarily Slytherin side of the stands was overlooked. As the Gryffindor commentator started and the game began, Hermione sat back, idly watching the game with both Harry and Draco conveniently in her line of sight.

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Veneficus sighed inwardly as the Quidditch match began. Personally the Sith apprentice would have rather taken the free time to continue training, but unfortunately, Lord Anguis was still a normal child, and insisted that they attend the match. Veneficus had decided to indulge him just this one time, plotting to make some sort of object lesson out of it later if the boy was fool enough to try and badger anything else from the Dark Lord.

Not that the game wasn't somewhat entertaining. Not that it compared to podracing or arena fighting, especially when you're contenting, but the game had a few good qualities. Veneficus watched mainly the bludgers, along with the beaters from both teams, watching the iron balls as they tried to crash into flyers at random, sometimes propelled by the heavy bats the beaters carried with them. Veneficus smiled slightly as he fantasized about constructing weapons similar in function to the bludgers, and unleashed them on any unsuspecting enemies.

The young Sith was pulled out of his thoughts by a streak of gold flying past his vision, and he focused on the tiny winged ball that basically was the main objective of the game. Apparently others had noticed it as well, as the announcer stupidly declared that the Snitch had been sighted, allowing both incompetent teenagers from the two teams speeding off to try and capture it. The crowd cheered, egging one their respective team of choice, all eyes focused intently on the two seekers.

Only a warning from the Force saved Veneficus from a bloody fate, giving him time to dive across the students next to him and dodge one of the bludgers, which smashed headlong into the seat he had been previously occupying. The ball crushed the wooden bench, knocking several students to the floor, who screamed, but weren't heard in the din of the cheering masses. The bludger rose like a rocket, before inverting direction and pelting back at Veneficus. Inwardly, the young Sith cursed his acolyte for bringing him to the pitch as he rolled to dodged the next series of attacks from the crazed iron ball.

The surrounding students, including Anguis, scattered, were fleeing the rampaging bludger. The out of control sphere spun and dove, continuing to pelt toward Veneficus as he used the Force to assist his speed and weave around the ball's path of destruction.

The Sith didn't dare draw his lightsaber to simply carve the ball in two, nor was he prepared to reveal his abilities in a show for telekinesis or Force lightning out with all the unwanted eyes to see. But he had a sinking feeling that if he didn't do something, the infernal magical contraption would box him in, or he would be forced to do something that would bring the attention of the teachers to his advanced capabilities. Glancing momentarily across to the teacher's box, Veneficus hoped that someone was paying enough attention to notice something amiss.

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Everyone was too focused on the battle between the seekers that only Severus noticed a small disturbance in the Slytherin stands. Several students were scrambling to get away as a bludger repeatedly attacked someone in their midst. Severus also noticed that the bumbling fool of a Defense Professor, Quirrell, was missing from his seat.

Putting two and two together took less than a millisecond for Severus, and he quickly departed from the teacher's box and rushed to the Slytherin stands, wand in hand as he arrived. As he expected, the student avidly ducking and dodging the rogue bludger was none other than Harry Potter. Severus paused for a moment, stunned at the lightning reflexes the boy possessed, almost moving in anticipation of the bludger's next attack instead of in reaction. Severus also half registered that the boy could make a very good Quidditch player as he focused on aiming his wand.

Unfortunately, Severus couldn't line up a clean shot with the bludger trying to pummel the boy into a pulp. The words of a slowing charm on his lips, Severus halted when the impossible happened. The bludger finally had cornered Potter, trapping him between the railing and some rubble, and sped toward him. The boy threw both hands up to protect his face, and the bludger suddenly halted its advance.

Taking the immediate advantage, Severus flung a high powered reductor curse, making the iron ball detonate in a shower of iron shrapnel. Severus then sprinted to Potter's side. The boy was cut and burned from being rained on by molten iron, but was otherwise uninjured. Charging Mr. Malfoy to take the other boy to the Hospital Wing, Severus looked around for any sign of Quirrell. He only caught a glimpse of the purple turban disappearing down the closest staircase.

It didn't take long for Severus to track down and confront Quirrell, back inside the castle. The Quidditch match had ended almost immediately before Severus destroyed the bludger, so aside from those who had been nearest, the majority of the school wasn't aware of what had happened… yet.

Stopping the stuttering professor in a vacant corridor, Severus seized the man by the front of his robes. "S-S-Severus I-I-I…" the man began, but Severus cut him off.

"Safe you're whimpering, Quirrell. I know it was you who set the bludger on Mr. Potter. But what I want to know is why. What's your game Quirinus? Especially regarding the Stone…"

Quirrell's eyes widened dramatically, "I-I-I d-don't know what you're t-t-talking about, S-Severus."

"Oh, but you do, Quirrell…" Severus said coldly. Pausing, he cocked his head, listening. The sound of the returning mass of students was growing closer. Returning to Quirrell with a sneer, he continued. "We'll have another little chat soon, after you've decided where your loyalties lie."

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To say that Anguis' new Lord was displeased with him was an understatement. Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey was able to heal his cuts and burns with great ease, releasing him in less than one hour after the game ended. Slytherin had barely won, but Anguis cared little for the outcome of the game after Veneficus stated flatly that they would not be attending any of the rest of the matches for that year. Anguis wished he hadn't tried to protest, as his… _punishment_… hadn't been the kindest thing he had experienced.

The Sith Lord had given his acolyte a taste of the power that Anguis desired most, holding him under the torment of Force Lightning for merely fifteen seconds. Never in his life had the boy every felt that much pain as his skin burned and electricity jolted through his body. Shuddering in agony on the stone floor of their hidden room minutes later, Anguis had wondered momentarily what he had gotten himself into. But he couldn't back out now; the oath he had taken would be the end of him if he tried to betray his new Master.

So Anguis did the only thing he could, rode out the pain and learned to be more obedient to the Sith Lord he had affixed himself to. Taking Veneficus' advisement of using his newfound pain and anger as a focus for his power, Anguis threw himself into his training, striving hard to make objects float with the raw power of the Force. The concept was simple in Anguis' mind; all he needed to do was focus the Force as an extension of his will, just as you did with magic, but drawing it from the world around you was harder than the acolyte had expected. The Force wasn't born inside you like magic was, always there at your beck and call. Sure, there was a limited amount of Force energy that you yourself created by being alive, but the many factions of Force users, Veneficus had explained, also drew power from the many channels that bound the galaxy together as one great system. Making that, connection as the Sith Lord had called it, was vital to performing any feat with the power of the Force. Anguis had made contact several times now, but feeling the Force and commanding it to obey your will were two different things.

Anguis could only describe the difficulty as trying to tame a wild animal. At first, it wouldn't trust you, and therefore flee from you at every attempt to harness it. But through careful and long exercises, it could eventually learn to trust you, allowing you to harness and lead it around on a leash. Now all Anguis had to do was put his analogy into practice, by making a stack of small metal crates hover above the ground.

Veneficus sat nearby, partially in one of the conjured chairs of the room, while at the same time searching through several old books of various topics. However, it was apparent to Anguis that his master wasn't finding whatever information that he was searching for, as book after book was tossed aside, and another summoned in its place, until a small pile of the discards started to form next to the chair.

Taking a short break from moving a pile of books from one side of the room to the other, Anguis approached the Sith Lord, taking a glance at the current book he was perusing. It was an old copy of 'Fantastic Beasts and where to Find Them,' by Newt Scamander. The Dark Lord of the Sith was currently holding the book open to a page about Cerberus, The three headed dog that muggle mythology had guarding the gates of the Underworld.

"Thinking of buying a pet?" Anguis said, before his brain registered how stupid that was to saw with what he had just gone through earlier. But thankfully, Veneficus just smirked, closing the book and tossing it on the pile, "No, but you never know when the information will become useful…" he paused, looking at the title of the next book before throwing it across the room, "Kriffing Shavit!" he yelled, and Anguis backed away immediately, feeling the power of his master welling up, "why can't I find Nicolas Flamel anywhere in these useless books!"

"Nicholas Flamel?" Anguis said hesitantly, still fearing another dose of the Sith's wrath, "Isn't he that nine hundred year old alchemist… Why do you want to know about him?"

But the blond boy never got the answer to his question, as Veneficus bolted from the room the minute the word 'alchemist' left his mouth. Thinking it would be best if he left this well enough alone, Anguis returned to focusing his newfound powers to send objects around the room, his fresh irritation at his master aiding him in throwing the books stronger than he normally would.

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Veneficus didn't stop running till he arrived at the library. He knew the exact location of the book that would tell him what he desired, ever since his acolyte mentioned that Flamel was an alchemist. He remembered passing a fundamental book of alchemy during his first week perusing the library. Normally he would have let the room bring the book to him, but if what he suspected was true, he'd prefer his foolish apprentice to be unaware of what the Cerberus was guarding.

Veneficus entered the library at a light trot, and ignoring the rude glance from the librarian, made a beeline for the book in question. Flipping through the book, the Sith stopped at a long list of known alchemists. And there he was. Nicolas Flamel, widely noted for his historic creation of the Sorcerer's Stone, the powerful artifact that turned metal to gold and created immortality. Returning the book to its shelf, Veneficus left the library, walking slowly to nowhere in particular, pondering the implications of this discovery. If indeed it was the stone that was guarded here at Hogwarts, that would explain a few of the stranger happenings going on around, and if it existed…

Veneficus smiled as a little plan form in his mind. Unlimited wealth and immortality, the two things that would ensure the Sith's survival for all time. If he, Darth Veneficus got a hold of that artifact, he would be able to produce the elixir of life, and therefore be unstoppable. The other puzzling thing was the not so very tight security on the stone. Seriously, a Cerberus as the first guardian, Veneficus doubted that it was the only protection on such a priceless trinket.

Well, the oaf Hagrid gave him the first piece of information, perhaps another unplanned visit would yield another. Wasting no time, Veneficus left for the groundskeeper's hovel, knocking loudly on the door and faking a sweet smile as the giant man opened the door.

"Well, hello there Harry, How've yeh bin?" the giant said, and Veneficus shrugged as he entered, feigning mediocrity. "Nothing much, how have you been, Hagrid?"

As soon as the door was shut, however, than Veneficus dropped the act, using the Force to aid his words, "**You will tell me everything you know about the measures guarding the Sorcerer's Stone**."

Hagrid blinked at him, genuinely surprised but completely unaffected by the mental command, "No, yeh know I can't," he said sternly, "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts… I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

Veneficus was shocked. The giant oaf was immune to mind tricks. It was just what he needed right now; another _wonderful_ and irritating complication to throw off his plan. Switching tactic quickly, he tried flattery, "Oh, come on, Hagrid," he said sweetly, "you might not want to tell me, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here."

Hagrid's beard twitched slightly and Veneficus could tell he was smiling. "I was just really wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you, in guarding it."

The oaf's chest swelled in pride, and Veneficus smirked as the giant man spilled all he knew, telling him that apart from the Cerberus, that Professors Sprout, Flitwick, McGonagall, Quirrell, Snape and Dumbledore himself had done some sort of spell or enchantment.

The Sith Lord left with a wide grin on his face. Each of the professors, with the exception of Dumbledore and Quirrell, had a specialty of what they studied, which would make formulating a counter strategy to run their gauntlet much easier. The Stone would fall into the hands of the Sith, and with it, the Order would be another step closer to at last crushing the Jedi and ruling the Galaxy for all time.

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Zhar dove as another ancient Sith trap sprung, and several poisonous darts shot over his head. He and Melina had been walking for hours, occasionally disarming or springing the many traps that the old Dark Side Masters had left in their citadel. Grunting slightly as he stood, brushing dust from his clothes. "How much farther do you think the vault is?" he asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

"It can't be much farther, only just around the next…" she paused, reaching a hand out to sense the currents of the Force around them.

"I sense it too," Zhar said. There were others in the citadel with them, following them. "What do we do?" he said, pulling out his lightsaber as the Twi'lek also drew her weapon.

"We keep moving, find somewhere we can hold whomever it is off." And with that, the woman dash further ahead, Zhar right behind them.

The beings perusing them quickened their pace as well, and Zhar was about to call out that they should stand and fight, when they came to a hulk blast door. There was a single figure waiting for them, clad in a hooded black robe.

Both Zhar and Melina skidded to a halt, activating their sabers. Mind reeling, Zhar tried to reach out to this opponent with the Force. What he found frightened him to the core. The blackness of the beings aura was sickening. "It can't be…" he said in amazement, "the Sith Lords were wiped out…"

Even more frightening to Zhar was the fact that Melina seemed to recognize the figure, as well as the other three humans that took up flanking positions, crimson lightsabers igniting as they closed off their retreat.

"Acolyte Melina Eris…" the hooded figure spoke, advancing a few steps, "I have to say you made it farther into this citadel with your Jedi friend than I thought you would…"

The Twi'lek stood there, frozen in horror. "Melina…" Zhar said, as the three Sith behind them slowly advanced, "What's the plan Melina?"

But the Ex Sith had her own ideas. Screaming in fury she charged the hooded man, crimson blade twirling as she leapt the final few feet at him. Cursing loudly, Zhar ran after her. The hooded Sith ignited his own red blade, catching and parrying every attack from both Zhar and Melina, retaliating with short jabs and graceful slices that kept their offensive sloppy and off balanced.

If Zhar wasn't fighting for his life, he'd say he was impressed. The Sith Lord made lightsaber combat look like an art, and neither of them scored a single hit upon the unknown being. Interlocking the three of their blades, the Dark Lord glanced directly at Zhar, and the Dark Jedi gasped as the three eyes of his opponent burned into his mind.

"Impressive…" the mutant muttered, batting aside another attack and kicking Melina back before throwing Zhar into the wall with the Force. Recovering, Zhar leaped back at the man, catching a surprise blast of lightning on his blade.

"Most impressive…" the man continued saying, spinning to avoid Zhar's next strike and cutting Zhar low on the leg, causing more pain than any sort of damage to him. "But you are not nearly powerful enough to challenge me…"

Melina sprang again at him, diving with her saber in hopes of impaling the Sith Lord. That's when the man stopped playing games. Catching the Twi'lek midair with the Force, the Sith threw her into the nearby wall, then slammed her into the ground, knocking her lightsaber away and winding her.

Turning to face Zhar, the mutant deactivated his weapon, stowing it beneath his cloak, "Lower your weapon boy, you cannot hope to defeat me."

Glaring, Zhar lowered his saber slightly, but did not shut it off, "No," he admitted, "I can't, but that doesn't mean I'm stupid enough to allow you to cut my throat without a fight."

The Sith Lord actually laughed, "Bravery… remnants of your Jedi training no doubt. But you have to great potential for me to kill off so simply. Why not join us boy, and we could facilitate your journey down the path of the Dark Side."

Zhar hesitated, weighing his options. Join the Sith, and possibly live a bit longer, or defy him and be slaughtered…"

"What choice do I really have?" Zhar said finally, shutting off his weapon and backing off a few steps.

"Wise choice, Jedi," the Sith Lord commended. Summoning Melina's fallen weapon, he motioned Zhar to come closer. "As your first show of loyalty, kill her…"

Zhar glanced at the fallen Twi'lek. He really had no feelings for her either way, and it was rather him or her, so he ignited his lightsaber and carried out his first order without fail, severing the Ex Sith's head from the rest of her body.

"Very good." The Sith Lord said, lowering his hood and returning to study the blast door.

"I can sense our prize beyond this door, but how to safely open it."

The door was large, filling the entire section of the corridor, and was a black metal with gold rune-like writing on it. "Lord Millennial," one of the other Sith spoke up, "it looks like several of the doors from Dromund Kaas, the ones that had to be opened with the Dark Side."

"Well spotted Neophyte…" Lord Millennial responded, before reaching out a hand, and pouring the power of the Dark Side into the door. The pure malevolent power made Zhar stagger back, aghast at the magnitude of strength the one man wielded. With an angry hissing sound, the doors slid aside. Granting the five of them entry to the vault beyond.

The room beyond opened up to a massive space, and Zhar was disappointed when there weren't mounds of treasure or artifacts, just one bizarre looking round ship. It looked kind of like an eyeball with strange looking wings of either side. It wasn't until Lord Millennial spoke up that Zhar understood the importance of the red orange ship before him.

"A Sith Meditation Sphere…"

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Sorin Kress remained in orbit over Ziost, on continued orders from Master Oprec to watch for Quelmok and follow him when he leaves the system. He was just wondering if the Fallen Jedi truly did plan on living on the deserted world, when several ships started departing from the planet. Two were the original ships that Sorin had seen enter hours earlier, but the newest was a sight that shocked the Jedi Knight to the core.

The rounded form of a Sith Meditation Sphere exited between the other two ships, leading the way to the hyperspace point. Acting quickly, Sorin sped around in a wide circle to get behind the three ships, closing the Force around him and activating his ship's scanner. The Meditation Sphere had one occupant, as did the ship Zhar had taken in, but the other mystery ship had three passengers. Quickly deactivating the scanner so he wouldn't be detected, Sorin fired a long range tracer at the mystery vessel, the small device attaching and activate moments before the ship followed the Meditation Sphere into hyperspace.

The final ship departed as well, but Sorin recognized that it was facing a different direction. But he was no longer concerned with Quelmok or his threat. A Sith Meditation Sphere registered only one thing in the Jedi's mind. A Sith, possibly even a Sith Lord, may have survived the war, and have been living in secret preparing to bring chaos back to the Galaxy.

Powering on his long range communications, Sorin contacted Master Oprec, explained the situation, and was patched through to the High Council room, where many of the council members were in attendance.

"Masters, I have disturbing news in accordance to my search for Zhar Quelmok," Sorin began urgently.

"Knight Kress," responded Grand Master Fae Coven, her rodent like features revealing curiosity and her whiskers twitching. "What is your report?"

"Master, I perused Quelmok to the forbidden world of Ziost, former capital of the ancient Sith Empire," Sorin saw the reaction of grave worry on the many faces of the council members, "there I held in orbit, waiting for him to leave the planet, as I would not face him there where the Dark Side held so much sway."

"A wise decision, young Jedi," Master Aaro Cater interjected. The Bith motioned him to continue immediately, and Sorin hurried on.

"As I held orbit, another ship entered the system, strong in the Dark Side. Thankfully, from my training I remained hidden and the ship also landed on the planet. Hours later the two ships left the world, accompanied by what I fear was a Sith Meditation Sphere, all three departing for destinations unknown. I worry, Masters, that we may be dealing with a Sith resurgence, maybe even the survival of a Sith Lord who is attempting to revitalize their order…"

"Impossible," Master Cedmel Antross said, "The last Sith Lord was slain years ago after the butchering on Tython."

"Be that as it may Master," Sorin continued, pleading with the human Jedi Master, "I managed to plant a tracking beacon on one of the ships, and I request permission to follow these new suspects."

"Did the ship you traced contain Zhar or the mysterious Dark Side source?" the Jenet Grand Master inquired.

"No Master, I suspect it was either in the Meditation Sphere, or still on the planet." Sorin replied.

"We need to discuss this further," Master Coven said to the council, before returning attention to Sorin, "Return to Coruscant Knight Kress, we will need to investigate before we decide on our course of action."

"But Masters!" Sorin said urgently, but the communication had shut off. He seethed in annoyance slightly, but quieted his mind with the Jedi Code. He knew that his Masters had good intentions, but sometimes the Council decided too often to deliberate and pass up opportunity rather than take immediate action.

Sorin didn't like having to disobey a direct order, but felt it was necessary in this case. Setting his hyperdrive to the coordinates of the beacon, the Jedi Knight set off on the chase of the mysterious ships.

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Millennial piloted the Mediation Sphere with great ease, the ship reacting to his deep and powerful connection to the Dark Side. Listening to the mental communication of the Sphere, Millennial learned that it used to be a full warship, before whatever Master it had recommissioned it to be a training ship for Sith apprentices. It had eagerly accompanied Darth Millennial when he offered it to return to its duties, training the future of the Sith Order.

With the convincing of the sentient ship completed, that left for Millennial only to decide what to do with his new Dark Jedi friend. He discerned that the Jedi would be after him, and that bringing him and his ship to Earth wasn't going to be the wisest move, so he ordered the human male to depart for Dromund Kaas with his ship, to assist Supreme Prophet Dass'in with the reconstruction effort, with a holonote from the Sith Lord explaining the situation.

It took several standard hours at lightspeed, with a small handful of replotted jumps to reach the world of Veneficus' birth, and Millennial took the time to contact Dass'in in advanced, to inform him of the Dark Jedi's arrival, and advise him on what to do and train the human with. He also received a progress report from the Dorian. High Prophet Lotu'an had been very busy searching out new prospects for training, and they already had about two dozen new neophytes training and resuming the excavation of the ruined world. They had cleared much more space in the main Dark Force Temple, and were training all the Neophytes in the ways of the Dark Side and the fundamentals of the Sith.

Upon his and the three Neophytes in Millennial's infiltrator, the Sith Lord sent the coordinates of Blackmoore Manor to them, along with the key words to dispel the Fidelius charm for the three humans, allowing them to enter and leave as needed. Millennial made contact with the droids stationed in the manor, and learned that the subterranean complex was nearly finished, and the hanger was opened, allowing the two ships to land undetected by the rest of the planet.

The new two dozen droids were immediately set to work unloading the infiltrator, taking the collected supplies to their respective areas in the new base, and Millennial addressed his three Neophytes. "We have much work to do here, and time is of the essence. My apprentice, Darth Veneficus will be in several weeks time, and I would like this base finished in time for his return."

"Yes, my Lord," the three said in unison, before the two women set to overseeing the droids, and Kelrek took his place in the new communications array, watching and waiting for anything from with Dass'in or the Dark Jedi Zhar.

Millennial was about to set about exploring the contents of his newest Holocron, when he saw the letter waiting for him, delivered by owl post. Several were from the wizarding bank, regarding his and his apprentice's assists, but the one that capture Millennial's attention was one with the Malfoy family seal. Tearing the envelope open, a short letter fell out, inviting both Sith Lords to the Malfoy ancestral home in Wiltshire for the Yule gala they held yearly. Millennial just grinned at the letter. Integrating into the wizarding world had just gotten a lot easier.

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Albus grimaced at the report Severus had given him regarding the attack on Harry Potter, and the following discussion the Potions' Master had had with Professor Quirrell. While both Severus and Albus had their suspicions, Albus was planning to let things play out, and lead Voldemort into a false sense of security, until he made the mistake of trying to take the stone.

The gauntlet guarding the stone was purposely made so that even a first year could pass it easily, with the right information, and Albus had noticed that young Harry had increased his searching for information about what lay beyond the Cerberus of Hagrid's. Albus still planned to send the boy his father's invisibility cloak that Christmas, allowing Harry and his friends the ability to move about the school undetected, except by Albus. With some luck, and a bit of subtle guidance on the Headmaster's part, Harry would be able to defeat Voldemort once again, and ending the threat of the Dark Wizard once and for all.

But… even then Albus had his hesitations. He had still had no success in determining the boy's current living arrangements, and neither petitions to Gringotts or any other of Albus' normal methods had yielded results. It was dealing with an unknown entity, and Albus did not like it one bit.

Perhaps several contacts Albus had in the Ministry would have means of discovering the location of Harry's new home, or at least the name of his new family. It was the best that the old Headmaster could come up with at the present time.

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Jedi Grand Master Fae Coven closed her eyes as a sudden disturbance in the Force brought the meeting of the Jedi High Council to a standstill. The Jenet Jedi Master knew immediately where the origin of the disturbance was. Ziost…

"Jedi Knight Sorin Kress has decided to disobey orders and follow this mystery on his own." She announced to the council at large.

"Then, what shall we do?" asked Master Rar Lalsok. The Weequay was currently on an assignment in the Outer Rim, assisting the protection of a special dignitary to Galactic Center to ask the Republic for assistance in a rebellion.

"We should attempt to keep communications up as long as we can, and hope the Force will lead young Kress to the source of this mystery," Answered Falleen Master Ir Trangrin.

Jedi Master Isshaartu grumbled a question. Many had difficulty understanding the language of the Wookiees, but the council had learned the language to accommodate their comrade, and Grand Master Coven responded, "We shall send others to find Zhar Quelmok in Knight Kress' absence."

"Might I suggest," added Master Lanen Quelross, brushing her long hair aside as she spoke, "that we send Master Ta-Ras-Min and her Padawan, Septin Aranis?"

"I agree," Master Coven said, and around the circle, the twelve members of the Jedi Council voiced their agreement.


	10. Chapter 7

**Well, still no word from my beta, I think Jedi might have gotten to him... or something like that anyway... So, proceeding with my origional chapters. enjoy, but more improtantly review or feel my wrath!**

**Chapter Seven**

**A Very 'Jedi' Christmas**

As much as Hogwarts was interesting and the concepts of magic enticing to Veneficus, he was grateful for the small reprieve for the winter holidays. He fully intended to return to Blackmoore Manor and see what his master had been up to in his absence. Veneficus had smirked at Weasley's angry glare as the group returning home departed the castle. The boy's parents had left the country and he and his siblings had been unable to go home, and the boy was very jealous about it.

The return journey from the castle via the train was uneventful, Veneficus, Anguis and several other Slytherin first years maintaining a compartment to themselves. The other children had occupied themselves with games and other frivolous distractions, while Veneficus had meditated. Zychre had attempted to start a conversation, mentioning something about making a new friend, but Veneficus had ignored her, still seeking to hide his abilities from the students at large. Finally, when the scarlet train reached the station, Veneficus left, nodding as Anguis said his farewells for the time being.

Exiting the magically hidden barrier, Veneficus sensed another Force user near the entrance to the station. It was not his master, but still had the trace of the Dark Side. He figured, from his few correspondences from Lord Millennial that it may be one of the new Sith Neophytes sent to retrieve him, but that didn't make the apprentice drop his guard.

It took the woman several moments after Veneficus approached her from behind to realize that he was there, and a few moments more to discern who he was. "Welcome my Lord." She whispered, "Neophyte Srilis at your service."

Veneficus nodded, and the pair of them departed, the woman hailing a vehicle for them to take back to Great Hangleton and Blackmoore Manor. The driver was slightly confused about driving to a supposed empty lot, but a small edge of the Force sent him away without questions, and empty handed.

After depositing his school things in his chambers, Veneficus decided to explore the new underground compound he learned about from previous letters from Lord Millennial. The hidden turbolift in the now emptied library, leading to the large hanger, which contained now two ships. One, Veneficus recognized as his Master's Sith Infiltrator, but the other was new to him, spherical, and shaped like an eye with large webbed wings. The new ship also had a very strong aura of the Dark Side, which both confused and intrigued the young Sith.

Other rooms, Veneficus discovered, were set aside for physical and Force based training, droid construction and maintenance, dormitories for Sith underlings, storage and many others. There was even a locked vault that even Veneficus had no access to, which he could only assume now housed the Dark Side texts and Holocrons that the Sith Lords had collected since the time of Darth Bane. All in all, it was very impressive, and to have been nearly finished in this amount of time was excellent.

The Sith apprentice decided to take up a short training session, until his master and the remaining neophytes returned from wherever they were. Pulling out his lightsaber, Veneficus paused a moment in thought, before returning his saber to his belt and taking his second wand from his secret sleeve holster. This particular wand, Blackthorn with a Basilisk skin core, was not the one that Veneficus had used in school, as he doubted that the teachers would like the illegal removal of the Ministries trace charm on the wand.

Giving the wand an experimental flick, the Sith Lord felt the pure magical power rush over him. This wand was a much better connection than the one he was forced upon in Diagon Alley, with Snape looming over him. While resistant to its master, and despite Veneficus dislike of the holly and phoenix wand, it had served well, performing everything he had demanded of it, but this… this wand was the one he was born to use, the wand worthy of a Sith Lord.

From the library Veneficus summoned a book on dark spells that his master had taken from Borgin and Burkes, setting it levitation in front of him in the training room. Pressing a nearby button to bring in a droid, the Sith apprentice set about trying to learn a dark severing curse. Taking aim at the hapless droid's neck area, Veneficus intoned, "_amputo_…"

Nothing happened. Veneficus smirked at the slight challenge the new situation posed. Consulting the book, Veneficus learned that, just as with the Dark side of the Force, emotion was required to power the Dark Arts. Attempting again, the Sith Lord was able to create a small blade of blackness, but it fizzled and faded before striking its target. But Veneficus felt something else. His wand was starting to warm in his hand, and the young Sith remember that most of his classes in Hogwarts had the students casting in the first class.

There must be some connection. Thinking hard, Veneficus started to pace, studying his wand. 'What if,' he mused, 'new wands must be attuned to their owners before powerful magic can be cast easily through them.' It made sense. Just as the Force required time and effort to effective flow through a user, like what his servant Anguis was learning, the magic of the wizards needed to carve paths to pass through not only the witch or wizard, but whatever tool or implement they wielded to channel their powers.

Lifting the wand again, Veneficus ran through all the spells he had learned in Hogwarts several times in quick succession, feeling the channels of magic course through the wood of his wand. Feeling bold and experimental, the Sith Lord sent a few wave of Dark Side energy through the wand at the same time, magnifying the pure power that he felt radiating off the wand.

Wheeling to face the droid once more, Veneficus said, "_amputo_!" Darkness flied from the wand tip, cutting a black line through the air, and severing the droid's head clean, sending both head and body to the floor with a metallic clang. The rush of dark magic was intense, and Veneficus practiced on the fallen droid, dismembering it completely before feeling sated from the use of magic.

"Interesting choice of demolishing your opponent, my apprentice," came the voice of Darth Millennial from the entranceway. Veneficus turned, keenly aware that he had not sensed his master or the other neophytes' approach. "But I feel that your delve into the darker aspects of these wizards might eventually come at a sacrifice of your other skills…" the three eyed Sith Master continued, stopping before his apprentice.

Veneficus kneeled, "I will not allow my skills to diminish, my Master." He responded.

Rising once more, Veneficus glanced at the other humans, a male and female he did not recognize on sight. "These are neophyte Jenah and Kelrek," Millennial introduced to him, "they, as well as neophyte Srilis whom you met before, are here to help facilitate our affairs on this world, for as long as those Hogwarts business is profitable."

"Of course, my Master," Veneficus replied, seeing the subtle instruction, to make sure that his venture into the world of the wizards was always for the profit of the Sith, and not for any other reasons. "I will not make life too difficult for them…"

Millennial smirked, "See that you do, now, we have things to discuss concerning a small gathering of wizards that we have been invited to attend…"

Veneficus smirked as he followed his master back to the manor as the neophytes admired the dismantled droid.

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Hermione tried to have some fun with her parents over the winter holidays, but inevitably her thoughts always seemed to return to Harry Potter and his radical ideas about life. No matter how she looked at the way the boy acted, she just couldn't fathom how he could end up thinking that way. No eleven-year-old could, let alone should, be so concerned with surviving as much as the young Slytherin was.

It was almost as if the black haired boy assumed he would be attacked wherever he went, and few exceptions aside, Hermione saw no reason for him to believe that. Sure the troll and the rogue bludger were rather disturbing in her logic, but who would honestly want to purposely injure children? It was just too much for her to constantly think about, but for some reason, something there was nagging at her, some deep urge to understand that burned within her.

If just speaking with the Slytherin wasn't so difficult, with his strange was of cryptically wording everything or snaring his phrasing with barbs and traps, Hermione would have enjoyed just speaking with him about it, and satisfying her need to know that way, but she didn't view it as possible.

Could it be possible that something in Harry's home life was affecting his way of thinking? Hermione was horrified to think that the boy might have been being abused, and therefore striving immensely to just continue living, and she honestly did not want to believe it, but it was the only reasonable conclusion that she could think of. Thinking harder of what she should do with this hypothesis, Hermione thought that maybe consulting a teacher, maybe even Headmaster Dumbledore, would prove of some use to her and her dilemma.

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Anguis stood in the main entrance hall of Malfoy Manor, all the trappings of a prim and proper pureblood and a set face of stoic coldness on his face. Underneath however, Anguis was restless. Both his master and his master's master would be coming, and if Lord Veneficus' power was any indication, than this elder Dark Lord was not one to displease, even on accident. His father, however, didn't seem to realize the potential hazards of his arriving guests, and was far more concerned with his former fellows of the Death Eaters.

In reality, after his eventful first term at Hogwarts, and learning this new power of the Force, Anguis had had a difficult time adjusting back to being at home, however short he would be. It was just, not what it had once been. His eyes had been opened to a larger world, a darker world, and one could not unsee these sorts of things easily. Needless to say that the things the boy, Draco Malfoy, had enjoyed in the past did not have the same caliber of entertainment to Lord Anguis of the Sith. He had rather spent much of his time practicing the arts his master had taught him, growing powerful in the Dark Side of the Force.

He had successfully managed to levitate his entire four poster bed and a pair of large bookshelves during his meditations, keeping them suspended for over an hour before he was interrupted by a family elf to prepare for dinner. His anger at the elf came so swiftly, that before he had realized what he was doing, Anguis had been strangling the elf, holding the creature off its feet. After releasing the frightened elf, Anguis had gone to prepare himself, realizing with a slight twinge of satisfaction that his eyes had temporarily changed to a yellow orange colour during his moment of rage.

Ever since, Anguis had felt a substantial increase in his connection to the Dark Side, and he hoped that his masters would as well. The two Sith Lords materialized in a whirling of blue as their private portkey transported them to the entrance hall. Lucius offered a short bow as they landed and approached them, "Welcome, Lord Ravenclaw and Lord Potter…" Anguis heard the slight drawing out of his master's name from his father, and knew that he did not regard the other eleven year old as worthy of note.

If Veneficus knew, he did not show his displeasure at Lucius, but returned an equally slight bow to Lord Malfoy and Anguis' mother, Narcissa. As Lord Blackmoore-Ravenclaw turned to him, Anguis felt the pulsating wave of pure Dark Side emanating from the Dark Lord of the Sith, and he bowed, lower than his father had, both as a sign of respect for the Sith Master, and as was expected by the son of a host. "I am Draco Malfoy, at your service, _my Lord_."

Lord Blackmoore regarded Anguis with a steely, calculating gaze, before patting the boy on the shoulder, "I am grateful for your service, young Draco. We will look forward to your career with great interest…" and together the three Force users walked to the main ballroom. Anguis felt pride surge inside himself. If his words were any indication, the Sith Master was pleased with his progress. A nod from Veneficus confirmed it, and the Sith acolyte set about to bringing of every comfort to his most important guests.

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Darth Millennial regarded the gathered group of wizards with his three keen eyes. Wielding the Force with great care, he had wrapped himself with a shroud of the Dark Side, preventing any from truly seeing him for what he was, and falling easily into the long practiced persona of Alexandre Blackmoore-Ravenclaw. Many of the dignitaries and other members of high society were coming to him, unknowingly drawn to his nexus of darkness, and engaging him in cryptic conversations, seeking to feel out this new person among their 'esteemed' body.

For the Sith Master, it was an easy ploy to turn the tables and draw as much information from these fools as he desired. For all their magically powers, they knew nothing about the subtle intricacies of the Force, and warping their minds and controlling their emotions was so simple it was pathetic. If the potential for great allies wasn't so high, Millennial felt it would not be too difficult to eliminate them all in one bloody swath if needed.

Amid the endless babble an useless flowery words, the Sith Lord discerned that many of these wizards were the leftover followers of the 'Dark Lord' Voldemort, and reaching out with the Force, Millennial found that each of these had a portion of magic in their bodies that was completely identical, linking each of them to each other and their fallen master. Oddly enough, it was a very familiar magical aura. Millennial felt that this required some intense investigation.

Heightening his senses, Millennial overheard several of these Death Eaters speaking in hushed whispers as his apprentice and the Malfoy boy passed by, "Irritating brat destorys our master and if left with nothing but a scar, and now we have to tolerate him here… filthy little half-blood…"

Something clicked. Millennial stretched out further, probing with the Force the scar upon his apprentice's brow. Veneficus looked toward him with a confused and concerned expression, but Millennial subtle shook his head, relaying to his apprentice to not react, and continued his examination of the magical wound.

And there it was. The very same magical signature was present in his apprentice, and more. There was in actuality a fairly large portion of power that was not in any way par to his apprentice, simply latched there like some mynock parasite. And what was worse, Millennial recalled the very same on the strange cup they had removed from the LeStrange Vault, placing it in their repository of Dark Side artifacts for further study.

There was some connection between these things, and Millennial didn't like what it implicated. He was going to get to the bottom of this mystery, and make sure it didn't threaten the Order of the Sith Lords.

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Veneficus allowed his acolyte to lead him around the room, pointing out this or that person of seeming importance, but the young Sith could sense that his apprentice had overarching sense of restlessness about him, probably due to the close scrutiny of so many people nearby. Walking close by the blond boy, Veneficus subtle passed two small bundles into his apprentice's hand, stepping away as they finally reached the largest group of children their age.

Most of them Veneficus knew of, at least in passing, and the majority of them were in Hogwarts with them now. The current first years at Hogwarts came over to him and Anguis, greeting the pair and chatting about mundane holiday subjects. Veneficus watched on as they chatted, preferring to sweep the crowd with the Force to seek out any potential threats or possible allies. Surprisingly, his senses directed him to two of the children directly in front of him. Turning to peer at the pair, Veneficus recognized Theodore Nott, his fellow Slytherin, and Terence Boot, a Ravenclaw pureblood that he had partnered with in Charms a few times.

The same two boys were eyeing him with equal looks of suspicion and confusion, which was odd, but the Sith could not feel the Force in either boy. Perhaps some sort of magical talent both boys possessed was allowing them to feel his power, but Veneficus wasn't quite sure what yet.

Touching Anguis' arm, he motioned at the two boys in question and requested, "Find us somewhere we can be alone, there are some things we need to discuss…"

"Yes my Lord," the blond boy whispered back, before making some excuse for Nott and Boot to follow him, mentioning loudly that he wanted to show them some new book that was in his room.

Veneficus waited only mere moments after they left to follow. Casually leaving the room, the Sith Lord mounted the stairs three at a time. Finally approaching the Malfoy heir's room, Veneficus started to hear the voice of the one of the boys, Boot he guessed. "Where is this book them, Malfoy?"

"Oh, it should be here about now…" Anguis answered, turning as Veneficus walked in and closed the door behind him.

"Now now children," Veneficus said condescendingly. He then paused at their confused and unnerved faces, "What?" he said in mock ignorance, "expecting someone else?"

"What do you want Potter?" Nott said, struggling to hide the nerves that were creeping up his face.

"I think you both know what I want…" Veneficus replied slowly, causing both boys to shiver.

Suddenly, Boot whipped out his wand, but the Sith Lord knocked it away with a casual wave of a hand. "I don't think so, Mr. Boot." He taunted. Both wizards were wide eyed with fear. Veneficus actually raised an eyebrow when he saw Nott's legs visibly shaking. "Gentlemen," Veneficus said again slowly, taking a seat in one of the chairs in his apprentice's bedroom. "I believe we can do this one of two ways… the easy way, or the hard way!" standing, Veneficus let the power of the Dark Side wash over him, and his wand slip from his hidden holster into his hand. Magic swirled angrily off the wand tip, a sickly green hue flaring across the room.

Both boys took a startled step back, and Nott said, "Dark wizard…" in a frightened tone.

The Dark Lord of the Sith regarded both terrified boys with an amused glance, "and if I am? What would that cause between us." He sat down again, "For you see, I have no intention of harming either of you. Quite the opposite in fact, I want to take you both on as extensions of my will. You're both intelligent young men, and it would be a shame to waste such potential…" he left the unspoken threat hang in the air.

"What sort of things would you want from us…?" Boot said hesitantly, still quite suspicious.

Veneficus smiled, "I need researchers, delving into areas of magic that I either do not have to or cannot due to my _wonderful_ public image… but before I go into any details, I want your vows." He offered a hand, smiling genially at both boys. They were still hesitant, but slowly, Nott took the offered hand. Anguis immediately whipped out his wand and murmured the beginnings of the Unbreakable Vow.

"Do you, Theodore Nott, swear to keep all that I tell and command you to do secret to all who I do not give you express permission to tell?" Veneficus stated flatly.

"I will…" the boy shaking replied.

"And do you, Theodore Nott, swear to keep the identities of your fellows in my service a secret from any who I do not give you permission to tell?"

Again, the boy agreed.

"And do you, Theodore Nott, swear to obey every command I give you to the best of your abilities for as long as you live?"

The boy's eyes widened in horror, but Veneficus' grasp was firm, and the boy could not pull away. "I….I…." he stammered, looking from Boot to Veneficus and back in sheer terror. Finally, he lowered his eyes, seeing no escape, "I do…" the bands of magic grew golden, flaring in power and binding the two wizards together in their pact forever.

Veneficus released him, and turned to Boot, who shuddered as the hand was extended to him as well. The boy had no other choice as well, and agreed to the terms that his new master set for him. "Well, now," Veneficus said after they were finished, "That wasn't so bad was it?"

Neither answered, clearly still fearful for their lives. "Oh, come now you two." Veneficus said, urging them both to relax, "I wouldn't go through all this trouble just to kill you. That would just be wasteful… Now why don't you both **sit down**."

The Force compelling them, the boy's obeyed immediately. Smiling cruelly, Veneficus pulled out two pairs of projectors and comlinks, "These," he said, indicating the four electronic devices, "are means of communication over long distances that don't use magic…" both boys look mildly interested even through their fear. "I want the pair of you, in whatever spare time you can muster, to reproduce these same devices except with the added advantage of incorporating magic as a power source."

"That's all?" Nott said cautiously, and Veneficus smiled before nodding. "I will see about your progress sometime before the end of this year at Hogwarts. Now, leave us…"

The two boys left the room, neither walking nor running, but something in between, as Veneficus smiled wickedly at his apprentice.

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Zhar's first impression of the Sith temple of Dromund Kaas had been, rather poor. The concept of being sent back for more training didn't sit well with the Dark Jedi, it being too close to what Zhar had already gone through as a Jedi youngling and later as a Padawan. Still, Lord Millennial hadn't really given him an option in the matter, and if he became more powerful in the Dark Side, perhaps he would be given more freedom to do as he pleased.

Landing the stolen freighter in the main Hangar Bay, Zhar had been directed to the location of the Supreme Prophet by a nearby acolyte, and had set off deeper into the massive structure. It appeared, Zhar noticed as he descended into the depth of the temple, that the people here had gone through some sort of disaster, if the mounds of rubble that were being cleared away or the battalions droids working to build new supports the corridors were any indication.

Down another turbolift, and Zhar was suddenly inside a massive training room. At least two or three dozen beings of varied races across the Galaxy were represented, each either clashing with crimson lightsabers, or learning advanced combat uses for the Force. In the very center of the room, supervising a pair of sparring combatants was Supreme Prophet Dass'in. Zhar recognized him as the only Dorian in the room, and the one that exuded the most powerful aura of the Dark Side.

Approaching quickly, Zhar nodded at the Kel Dor before speaking, "Supreme Prophet."

"Jedi Quelmok, we've been expecting you," the masked orange being replied, studying Zhar intently with both eyes and the Force.

"I am no Jedi…" Zhar said angrily in retort.

"So you say," Dass'in replied, "but as you have had no other training but theirs, you are still, in fact, a Jedi… but we shall correct that in time."

Waving Zhar to come stand beside him, the Supreme Prophet addressed the gathered crowd of students, "Attention Neophytes, we have a special demonstration for you today." Indicating Zhar, Dass'in continued, "Our agent, Zhar Quelmok, has recently left the Jedi Order, and as such, is still very much in tuned with their battle prowess and their knowledge of the Force. Listen to him, and obey him as you would any of our Acolytes, your superiors."

"Yes, Supreme Prophet," they chanted as one, before returning to their exercises.

Zhar waited as Dass'in studied him a moment longer. "I have a task for you, Acolyte," he started.

"What is it then?" Zhar responded, hoping it involved a nice civilized planet with things to distract him.

"I want you to go to Dathomir," Dass'in said, crushing Zhar's hopes. Dathomir was a jungle planet rife with various carnivorous predators. "There I want you to find and explore the Sith training center that was hidden there by the Brotherhood of Darkness. Retrieve anything that may be of use to us here."

Half bowing, but still resistant to showing submission, Zhar responded, "As you wish…"

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Jedi Padawan Septin Aranis strode through the halls of the Coruscant Jedi Temple, waiting for his Master, Ta-Ras-Min, to return from speaking with the high Council about their new assignment. As a newly chosen Padawan, Septin had little idea what to expect with his new mentor, but from what he heard it wasn't going to be easy. From the other younglings, he had heard that Master Min had lost her last Padawan to the Dark Side, and that the much older Jedi was still on the run.

A door ahead of Septin opened, revealing Master Min, walking out with Battle Master Oprec, talking quietly and consulting a datapad. Walking swiftly up to the pair, Septin nodded as he was greeted and included in the conversation. "We are tasked with tracking down my, former, Padawan." Master Min said, slight tones of regret in her voice.

Septin nodded, understanding the dangerousness of the mission. Former Jedi Zhar had been rather talented, and for one as strong as him to fall to the Dark Side was a heavy blow to the Order at large.

"The last system where Quelmok was sighted was the Sith capitol, Ziost." Master Oprec said, showing them a Hologram of the frozen planet, complete with the coordinates. "May the Force be with you both."

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Sorin watched the stars return from his latest hyperspace jump, after a long chain from Ziost. According to his navigation unit, Arfour-Deten, he was somewhere deep in the Unknown Regions, but where exactly, the droid had no idea. All that Sorin knew is that the ship he was followed had landed on the third planet. Activating his stealth modulator, and closing himself in with the Force, Sorin flew in completely undetectable.

Following the trail of Dark Side energy, Sorin had no problems setting down in the forest near a large clearing that was absolutely infested with the power of the Dark Side. Setting out on foot instead of contacting the council again, Sorin departed from his ship, leaving it in the hands of his astromech, subtle darting from tree to tree as he made his way toward the dark nexus.

The planet was nothing that Sorin had ever seen before, yet had so many different similarities to other planets that it was confusing to the young Jedi Knight. It was almost like some race of beings had randomly decided to mash together aspects of several other planets into one, sending the new creation flying out into space. The combination wasn't at all unappealing either, Sorin noted.

He was removed from his thoughts, however, when he reached the clearing that housed the lingering Dark Side. The clearing was completely empty, void of anything that could give off such a strong Dark Side aura. It made no sense, there had to be something there, yet there wasn't.

Lowering the protections surrounding him in the Force to probe the open area, Sorin was further confused by being able to clearly sense life forms inside the open area, but yet he still couldn't see a thing.

Then, suddenly, a figure appeared out of thin air. It was a small boy, but Sorin recoiled instead of lowered his guard. The boy stank of the Dark Side.

"Prepare yourself for the Force… Jedi!" the boy demanded, activating a crimson lightsaber and charging Sorin. The Jedi Knight had little time to to activate his own weapon before the boy was on top of him.

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Veneficus had been studying quietly in his chambers when he had felt it. A sudden disturbance in the Force emanated directly from outside the Manor. Seizing his wand and Lightsaber, the Sith apprentice charged to his Master's chamber, meeting Darth Millennial and the three Neophytes along the way.

"My Lord, scanners show a figure outside the manor, from out visual it appears to be a Jedi," Kelrek reported.

"The Jedi is of no consequence;" Millennial said calmly, "Lord Veneficus will slay him and recover his vessel."

"As you command my Master…" Veneficus replied, bowing before storming for the front door. His adrenalin was rushing and he felt his anger on the verge of consuming him in an animalistic rage. 'Finally, a true test of my power,' he thought as he flung open the front doors. He could see the Jedi clearly, standing just at the edge of the trees.

"Prepare yourself for the Force… Jedi!" Veneficus yelled, activating his saber and flat out charging the surprised Jedi. So fast was his approach and his focus so intense that the foolish human had barely raised his defenses when Veneficus struck, raining blows down from all angles on the Jedi, his blue blade moving faster that the eye to be able to block and parry all of the Sith apprentices attacks. His lightning jabs and acrobatics gave Veneficus the edge to continue pressing the attack, while the Jedi kept trying to fins steady footing to counter from.

Anticipating the Jedi's style, a powerful strength oriented Djem-So form of combat, Veneficus did not let up his offence, keep the Jedi off balance and driving him back into the forest, away from the manor and his Master.

That was, until the Jedi backed into a tree, having lost where he was going in his attempts to keep Veneficus' blade from scoring a hit. The Sith Lord came in for the kill, stabbing toward the Jedi's torso, but the human used the Force to propel himself upward, allowing the crimson blade to impale the tree trunk behind him.

Veneficus looked up with an angry snarl, but had to flip backward to dodge the Jedi's counter attack, a powerful downward slash while returning to the ground.

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Sorin had never expected so powerful an opponent from one so young. The boy could not have been more than twelve or thirteen years old and yet fought like a powerful Battle Master. It took everything that Sorin had to keep the boys strange and sometimes misleading attacks away from him. His speed was clearly his strength, but now that Sorin was on the offensive, it would be his only defense.

Bringing his blade down with a mighty swing, and following up with a powerful uppercut, Sorin swatted the boy's blade aside harmlessly, crushing through his defenses and only missing because of the boy's quick dodges. Switching tactics, the boy attempted to throw dead tree limbs and braches at Sorin, who hacked through them like they were nothing, before pressing the attack.

The boy tried to flip over the Jedi Knight, but Sorin reacting quickly, grabbing the boy's ankle and pulling it hard, slamming the boy to the ground. Sorin stabbed, but the boy twisted and rolled away from the blue beam, finally flipping from the ground to a standing position, and they set to circling each other, waiting for their opponent to make a move.

"Your good child," Sorin huffed, drawing heavily on the Force to keep his muscles from giving out, "Very good. But why? Why the Sith?"

The boy snarled, huffing for air as well, but only responded with a blast of lightning. The rays of electricity were feeble though, and Sorin caught them on his saber with great ease. "What do you know about anything, Jedi!" the boy yelled, firing short blasts of lightning again and again, but Sorin kept blocking and catching each bolt on his blade, "Your Order does nothing but weaken itself, while My Master and I gain power with every victory, every challenge."

"If you will not surrender, then I will have no choice but to destroy you," Sorin said, settling into a ready position, saber held high and prepared for an attack or a block.

"You will try," the orange eyed Sith child said, before leaping back into the offensive. Blocking attack after attack, Sorin started to see patterns in the style the child was using. The fluidity, mixed with the rough stabs and slashes, beautifully combining the fourth and seventh forms of saber combat. A true work of art, but sadly used to the means of evil.

But, understanding the style allowed Sorin to defeat it, anticipating the next attack and kicking the young Sith in the face. The child went flying, his saber knocked from his hands. With one slash, the evil weapon was cut in two, rendering it useless for his opponent.

Sorin bore down on the fallen Sith, clearing his mind to do what must be done to all enemies of the Republic.

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Veneficus knew his weapons was gone, and as the Jedi advanced toward him, he responded with the only things that came to mind, firing more lightning from his fingers, but he was still not used to commanding the Dark Side in such a fashion, allowing the Jedi to deflect and absorb the deadly bolts with his saber.

Finally, the Jedi pushed Veneficus, and concentrating on channeling the lightning, the Sith had no defense from being thrown hard into a nearby tree. Stars burst behind his eyes, and Veneficus knew he might be finished. The glowing blue blade was over him, raised high in an execution position.

That's when Veneficus remembered his one remaining weapon. Snatching his wand from his pocket, he slashed wildly and yelled "_amputo_!"

The jedi stopped. His Lightsaber fell with a clatter from his limp grasp, and fell, his body cut cleanly across the chest. Veneficus stood shakily, still slightly dazed from the impact on the tree, and summoned what remained of his old weapon. Darth Cognus' lightsaber was destroyed; the focusing emitter and crystal cut clean by the Jedi's saber. Shaking his head in frustration, Veneficus realized that he had to construct his own saber at last.

Spying the Jedi's fallen weapon, he took it as well. It would serve him until his own weapon was completed. Moving quickly, Veneficus awkwardly transfigured the Jedi's corpse into a mound of soil, leaving it behind as he went to secure the fallen warriors ship. After the Jedi, the astromech was no challenge, and Veneficus simply overloaded its circuits with lightning before activating the fighter's power, slowly flying it back to Blackmoore Manor, entering the secret hanger and letting the droids take care of the newest addition.

Reviewing the battle with the Jedi, Veneficus decided that his style was effective, but lacked in key areas, namely defense. When the Jedi had knocked him out of the aggressor's position, he had been just as helpless at fending off attacks as the Jedi had been. Perhaps implementing elements from the Soresu defensive form would allow the final pieces of compatibility to fall into place with his Saber combat style.

Passing the bench where he would build his saber in future, Veneficus also pondered if he should branch to a different type of weapon set. A single saber had worked well for him, but he wondered how well his style would work with a Saberstaff… or two full length sabers, or even a single full length saber and a Shorto saber… the possibilities were definitely something for him to meditate on in the near future.


	11. Chapter 8

**Hurray new chapter! Many thanks to all those who read and review this story! And an extra special thanks to those who discuss the finer points of the story with me via private messages (I see you pplz) the coversations are always stimulating and inspiring to the future of the story! The sheer amount of people looking at this story leaves me speechless every time I look at the numbers, I simply love it. Please keep up what you do, so I may keep up what I do. Review! Keep up the heavy fire of your scrutiny, so my muse can stay fully charged at all times! Enjoy!**

**Chapter Eight**

**The Holocron of Darth Zeemar**

Master Coven closed her eyes as she felt more than heard a scream of agony rip through the Force. 'Poor Sorin…' she mourned mentally, feeling the disturbance flow over the temple around her. Those who knew the usually well-constrained Knight would feel the moment of his death, and they would hold a short ceremony later in the evening to commemorate the life of the valiant Jedi.

But the question was still how the youthful Jedi Knight had met his fate. And an even worse thought, why. Difficult questions to answer indeed, and the Grand Master of the Jedi Order decided to retire to the Room of a Thousand Fountains to meditate and try to riddle out the tragedy.

Settling down on a flat rock before a deep pool, Master Coven closed her eyes and opened herself to the Force. Through the swirling reaches of space and time, all things existed, connected to each other with the powers of the Force. Light, and Darkness, neither good nor evil, but simply one embodying power, the other wisdom; the balance of Light and Darkness had been tilted, favoring the Jedi and the servants of the Light for years.

But now…

But now, Master Coven sensed the Dark Side growing once again in the Galaxy, like an undercurrent sliding beneath a wide river, waiting to drag any unsuspecting being down to the depths of its corruption. Attempting to penetrate the Darkness had been done by many Jedi Sages in the past, and many of these were able to discern the methods and actions of the Sith in doing so. But the way was perilous and just as many Jedi had been lost though trying to see through the shroud of the Dark Side. The Jenet Grand Master felt that if there was even a potential threat to the peace hard won for the Republic, even more so if Sorin was right and a Sith Lord was still abroad in the Galaxy, then the risks were more than worth it.

Visions started to appear in the Jedi Grand Master's mind, of darkness and death spreading across the Galaxy. Worlds burned as an armada of ships surged across the stars, slaughtering and enslaving all in their path. And beneath it all, an impending darkness, manifesting into a man, clad in the trademark robes of a Dark Lord of the Sith, eyes burning with hatred and saturated with the Dark Side. Upon his head was a great jagged cut that pulsed with power of another sort, and this man wielded sufficient power to hold the galaxy in the palm of his hand.

Retreating from the darkness before it could consume her in despair; Master Coven opened her eyes to find herself back in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, surrounded by the thunderous sound of waterfalls. Puzzling over the newest bit of guidance from the Force, Master Coven made her way back through the temple, passing students and other masters without acknowledgment. The future was always in motion, her masters had always told her, and if this vision was even possible, then the Jedi Order had to be prepared for the worst. If indeed the Sith were somehow still alive, and responsible for killing Sorin Kress, then they must have been associated with the fallen Jedi Zhar Quelmok. Suddenly all their hopes for the future lay with finding the Dark Jedi and questioning him.

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Far too soon, the Yule holiday period drew to a close, signaling the return to Hogwarts and the tedium of endless days of schoolwork and teenage angst. Veneficus could feel his blood spark in annoyance at the thought of returning, but his plans regarding his 'chosen' students that he had set in motion required it, especially if he was to continue to work unhindered by either Millennial's or Dumbledore's scrutiny.

With only a few days left before needing to board the train back to the castle, the Sith Lord set about collecting some rather specified items for the next term, chief among them were specialized robes, cut to allow freedom of movement, but still closely resembling the style of the Hogwart's uniforms. The ignorant woman who ran Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions outright refused to modify the customary Hogwarts sets, so Veneficus had gone to the other clothing shop in Diagon, Twilfitt and Tattings, and found their staff far more amenable to his desires.

Another important task on the Sith's list was to acquire much larger quantity of potion ingredients and equipment to use at Blackmoore Manor. Despite the tentative neutrality he had with Snape, Veneficus did find the study of Potions to be very interesting, and desired greatly to continue to practice while away from school, especially with potions that he would never be allowed to brew in the dungeon classroom.

At least, aside from his usual pastime at Hogwarts of training and practicing advanced magic, Veneficus would have something to take his mind from the dull monotony of learning at a child's level. As a reward for slaying his first Jedi Knight, Darth Millennial had gifted to Veneficus a Sith Holocron for him to learn from while away from the Sith Master's personal tutelage. Veneficus was told that this Holocron was only recently discovered in the ruins of the Great Temple on Dromund Kaas, and was a recording of one of the greatest members of the previous Sith Empire's Dark Council, Darth Zeemar, and once head of the Sith Sphere of Ancient Knowledge during the time shortly before the Sith Empire crumbled into Lord Kaan's Brotherhood of Darkness.

Veneficus was quite pleased to be allowed such knowledge as this to be his to learn from, and eagerly activated the Holocron at the first opportunity to verify its authenticity. He was not disappointed, as the Sith Gatekeeper flared into existence, shrouded in a black cloak that veiled the Sith Lord's features.

"_I am Darth Zeemar, Head of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge and last of the Dark Councilors._"

Zychre, who had been wrapped around Veneficus' arm at the time, slithered down to get a closer look at the Gatekeeper. "_The energiesss are ssso warm… why can't the heat from your human bodiesss be like thisss onesss?_"

Rolling his eyes at the impertinent snake, Veneficus focused on the waiting Gatekeeper, "Teach me, Lord Zeemar, of the history and powers the Sith Empire had discovered in your time as esteemed head of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge."

"_No… you are not yet worthy of my secrets, young apprentice._" The Gatekeeper replied.

Veneficus was stunned. Not many Sith Holocrons were limiting on what they would or would not teach a student, but regardless, he would follow what the Holocron wanted for now. He would have nothing but time to spare while at Hogwarts.

"What will you teach me to allow me to be worthy then?"

"…_The History of the fall of the Sith Empire, and the rise of the heretic, Kaan, and his Brotherhood. You will take these lessons for what they are, warnings of what may befall the Sith if they fall to the Jedi thinking of 'equality.' You will learn of the failings of the Sith, so that the future will only improve._"

"Then I will accept your teachings, until they prove no longer useful to me, my Lord." Veneficus replied, slightly irritated. If he needed or wanted to learn about the corrupt Brotherhood, he could just as easily read over Darth Bane's many manuscripts or even access the Sith Lord's Holocron and have him tell how he crushed said Brotherhood himself.

The Holocron Gatekeeper laughed at the apprentice's words, "_you are learning already then I see. For your adherence to the true Sith way, you shall find these to be simple and quick lessons, paving the way for you to understand the matchless power of the Dark Side…_"

How long he listened to the Holocron and answered its questions, Veneficus wasn't completely sure, but he eventually called for an end to the lessons for that day, and shut off the ancient device, stowing it away in a secure part of his seven-layered trunk. Just as he finished locking it up, an owl swooped in through the open window of his room, and Veneficus turned to see a package tied to the bird's leg.

Relieving the burden from the owl, which departed immediately after its delivery was completed, Veneficus noted how light the package was. It was also easily bent, like the contents were some sort of cloth. Paranoia sweeping in at the lack of a note of whom the sender was, a very good reaction for any Sith, Veneficus swept the parcel with the Force, only opening it when he felt no threat from the contents what so ever.

As the last part of the wrappings fell away, something fluid-like and silvery grey slid into the Sith's hands. It was tailored like a cloak, but the fabric was something that Veneficus could not place. It felt like water in his hands, but made solid. Walking over to a standup mirror that before had served little purpose in the room, the Sith apprentice threw the cloak around himself, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise as his body vanished from view. Spying a note that had been in the wrappings, Veneficus crossed back to the bed and read it.

'_Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well._

_A Very Merry Christmas to you._'

A knowing smile spread across the Sith Lord's face. He recognized that handwriting from his Hogwart's letter, meaning that if his guess was right, the hand that wrote it belonged to Albus Dumbledore. If said wizard was sending him such a priceless and useful gift, then the old fool was dimmer than the Sith gave him credit for. This cloak would render the need to conceal himself with the Force nearly unnecessary. He would only need to worry about being tracked by scent or Force presence, and he knew that there must be techniques in existence that nullified those weaknesses; he had seen the Jedi employing them during their duel, and only that could explain him approaching so close without being detected. Veneficus vowed to master the ability, so that combined he could move more stealthily than the Sith Assassins of old.

In addition, this cloak made much of Veneficus' plan to steal Flamel's stone much simpler to achieve. Roaming the halls undetected was definitely an advantage over his previous idea of putting his stealth training to the test, but still… he had to be careful. Surely Dumbledore would know that giving Veneficus this tool would encourage him to go about wherever he pleased at any hour of any day, therefore he must have had some means of locating him if needed, or the old man simply did not care, but Veneficus knew better than that.

He would consult with his master about this development, before committing to any action, without of course mentioning any part of his plan or the stone whatsoever.

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Albus always enjoyed the Christmas holidays, and this year had been no exception. Apart from the wonderful meal that the staff and any students that remained at the castle of the break had together, all seated at one small table instead of the usual house tables, and the presents from his many friends and admirers, Albus was able to, this year, finally return the one present that he had been holding for almost ten years to its owner. At last, James Potter's invisibility cloak was back in the Potter family, and despite the potential for mayhem that the boy could cause, Albus did not in the slightest regret giving the boy one of the few remaining relics of his lost parents to him.

Sadly, as the boy had gone to his still very mysterious home for the break, Albus had not had the opportunity to test the Mirror of Erised, but he still felt very certain that it would protect the Sorcerer's Stone from anyone who desired to use it for evil ends. Instead of letting it sit in an unused classroom for a time, Albus had moved the enchanted mirror directly to the end of the gauntlet on the third floor, and sealed the Stone inside, with the condition that it could only be removed by someone who wanted it, but not to use it.

With that important task completed before the students returned for the second term, and thus increasing the likelihood of someone coming across the mirror, Albus was able to start plans for the future, namely the next summer. He had made arrangements with Molly Weasley, in attempts to get her youngest son and daughter, both of whom had had large fantasies of a young Harry Potter as children, to become acquainted with the Potter heir. Part of that had failed, as the enchantment that Molly and he had agreed to place on her youngest boy had proved not sufficient to make the two boys become friends, and had later on failed entirely, causing the boys to diverge further apart.

Molly still hoped that her daughter Giverna would be able to meet and grow close to the boy, and Albus figured it was still worth another attempt. If any of the Weasleys could make a good enough impression on the boy, it would bode very well for Albus to be able to predict how best to use the boy's strengths to combat Voldemort when the Dark Wizard returned.

That friendship, combined with whatever happened when Harry chose to fully investigate the Stone, would show Albus what exactly the boy was capable of, and how much 'hands on' guidance was needed to nudge the boy in the proper direction. The troll had been a good sign, but there was still Harry's overall demeanor when it came to his fellow students. From what the other Professors had mentioned, Harry was very bright, quickly grasping everything they threw at him, and therefore was easily bored with what was taught in his classes. Adding to that his distrust of most people, he seemed to look down on his peers, and while he didn't actively terrorize them, he was just standoffish and cold enough to dissuade most from trying to befriend him.

While problematic right now, Albus didn't see this phase of solitude lasting for seven years, and he rested assured that eventually Harry would change his mind, and seek out friends outside of the Slytherin group. Probably starting with Ravenclaw Hermione Granger as a start he guessed, but Albus knew that the true Gryffindor that resided inside the boy wouldn't remain a secret for long.

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Severus mentally sighed as the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins filed in for the first class of the new term. It had become a growing dread for the Potion's Master, having to put up with a Slytherin Potter who had seemed to wrap his entire house around his finger, just as the brat's father had done with Gryffindor. And just like James Potter had done with Slytherin, the boy had dug a lasting grudge with the house of Gryffindor, and yet had still done little to nothing as far as Severus knew.

The boy was just odd, even with all the parallels with his father, and Severus personally was irritated the most by the fact that he couldn't make heads or tails of him. Adding to the fact that he had seemingly lost his earliest memories of the boy and his guardian, which caused both he and Albus great distress, he chose to simply keep a long distance from the boy, maintaining a casual observation as per the Headmaster's wishes. Severus knew exactly why Albus wanted this, and the lengths the old codger would go to maintain some sort of control over his little Boy-Who-Lived-to-Drive-Severus-Insane.

Thankfully, the boy was very quiet, clearly a model student, if not somewhat bored with the subject matter. Severus saw a mile away that this Potter had inherited his mother's brain, even if it was tainted with his father's social skills. Maybe, if Severus deemed the boy no real threat in the near future, he would start to push the boy in his classes, give him a real challenge to test the potential lurking behind Lily's eyes.

Currently, Potter was working with Draco, and the two had been quite inseparable from the beginning of the year, and their Forgetfulness potion was by far the best in the class. Severus always felt it wise to set the class the very potion that would be their final exam in the middle of the school year, and see how many figured out the pattern. It helped him to prune the dunderheads from the pack early on, and he would start formulating his N.E.W.T classes early on, slowly nudging the students he felt could succeed in the right direction while letting the others struggle. While somewhat loath to admit it, Potter would definitely be one of the best choices for Severus' advanced Potion's class.

Lost in his thoughts, Severus stalked around the room in his normal fashion, and in doing so; saw a potential threat to his class's future safety early on. The youngest Weasley boy was glaring at the Slytherins instead of his rapidly thickening potion, particularly at Potter. Obviously his childhood hero was turning out to be different that he expected, and Severus knew at that moment that the boy would attempt something the moment the bell rang.

As the class departed for dinner and the rest of their free evening, Severus made a beeline for his private stores, and in particular the secret door to the hallway closer to the stairs to the entrance hall. He arrived and swept into a shadowed corner just as the class passed by, Slytherins in the lead, Gryffindors behind.

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Anguis felt his meager Force abilities ring out warnings of danger moments before a resounding bang filled the crowded dungeon corridor. All the Slytherins ducked as a jet of light sailed right for Veneficus. The Sith Lord had clearly felt it coming, and twisted perfectly out of the way, turning slowly to face the angered Weasley, who was still pointing his wand at Anguis' Master.

The surrounding students fled, sensing the oncoming storm as Veneficus gathered the Dark Side around him. Anguis followed them, before doubling back and slipping into a darkened corner to watch, and he was amazed that Weasley was actually holding his ground, albeit his legs were struggling to not shake, "Y-You don't frighten me, P-Potter…" he said shakily, his wand still holding steady. Veneficus simply smirked, before becoming a blur of motion, seizing Weasley by the throat and slamming him against the stone wall of the dungeon, knocking the prat's wand away with a loud clatter. Leaning toward the red haired boy, who was still stubbornly trying to portray vaunted Gryffindor courage, the Sith Lord said calmly in his ear, "You should be…"

Anguis saw his master flick his wrist and the silver cylinder appeared in his hand, his Lightsaber. Pressing the end into Weasley's chin, Anguis widened his eyes. Veneficus was going to murder the boy right there. But before anything could happen, the cold voice of Professor Snape cut them off, catching the three of the off guard "Potter! Weasley! What's going on here...?"

The Saber disappeared in a flash, and Anguish watched as the Sith apprentice faced the Professor, smiling falsely and said, "Nothing Professor, just having a small chat with Mr. Weasley here…"

"I can see that," the Potions Professor said sarcastically, before addressing Weasley "Move along Mr. Weasley, and that curse will cost you ten points from Gryffindor." The red head slumped off, pride injured and still blissfully unaware as to how close he was to death.

Refocusing on Veneficus, Snape continued, "As for you, Mr. Potter… Fired curse or no, your actions were a disgrace to the house of Slytherin, and you will serve a detention with me on Saturday, cleaning cauldrons and rethinking how you _should_ have handled the situation..."

Slowly waving a single hand to the side, Veneficus muttered, just loud enough for Anguis to hear, "**I will not serve a detention**…" Professor Snape merely looked at him blankly for a moment, before saying in a flat voice, "You will not…" he paused, blinking and seeming to shake his head, "Wait, what did you do to me?!" he demanded, "Never mind, get out of my sight Potter…" and with that the Potions Master stalked away, leaving a silently fuming Veneficus.

The Sith Lord turned, and Anguis' eyes widened when he looked directly at him, motioning him to follow. 'This won't be pleasant…' Anguis thought as they made their way up to the seventh floor, bypassing the full Great Hall and dinner.

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Veneficus fumed silently as he and Anguis arrived at the hidden room on the seventh floor. Blast Snape and his overbearing willpower. Millennial had made it seem so easy to dominate the man's will and send him away. But the irritating Potions Master had indeed powerful mental defenses, and Veneficus' pitiful attempt barely grazed him. And what was worse now he had to put up with the man for an extended period of time when he'd much rather be doing anything else.

Needless to say that Veneficus wasn't feeling in a particularly merciful mood for this session of his apprentice's training. The room opened up to several large stone blocks resting in two rows, and the Sith led his confused and wary acolyte in. Veneficus had decided that his Master had had the best methods of teaching that he knew of at the moment, and until he had his true apprentice, he could practice on training Anguis while working on his own skills.

"It's time for you to develop a deep, intimate connection with the Force," Veneficus said, raising both hands and demonstrating what he wanted his follower to accomplish, lifting the six blocks of stone high into the air simultaneously. The blond haired boy gaped; open mouthed at what he was being commanded to do. "Y-You want me to lift all those? They must be several tons each!"

A single glare from the Sith silenced the boy, and he swallowed hesitantly, nodding and moving to stand where Veneficus had. Gathering Force around him, Anguis strained to lift the pillars. Veneficus knew he wouldn't be able to do it perfectly, but he was impressed that Anguis at least managed to shake each of the six and lift two slightly off the ground before the lot fell back into place and Anguis collapsed in exhaustion. "I can't… I can't do it Master…"

"Weakling…" Veneficus said coldly, before raising a hand to send a blast of Force lightning as punishment. The screams were slightly relieving to the stress that Veneficus felt about Weasley and Snape, but not enough to fully appease him. "Do it again!" the Sith Lord commanded, relishing the building anger in his apprentice. The boy did not realize yet, thinking that Veneficus was torturing him solely for sadistic pleasure, missing the key clue that he was being provided.

"Feel its power within you… concentrate, and lift the stones!" Veneficus demanded. Anguis tired again, with little success, the boy was simply too tired. "What you ask is impossible…" he replied angrily.

"Impossible?" Veneficus said, smirking, "this task is impossible only because **you** deem it so…" walking around to face the weakened boy, Veneficus smiled as he provided his clue of a blast of lightning again, "you must connect with your hatred!"

The boy's rage continued to mount, and Veneficus smiled as he walked a small circle around his apprentice, "Focus on your power building, think of nothing or no one else…" another volley of lightning, and the boy's anger was reaching a breaking point "That's it; your anger is your strength…"

"I **hate** you…" they boy said, still convulsing from the recent barrage of blue energy.

"Good…" Veneficus replied, before resuming the flow of lightning, not stopping as the child writhed on the ground. Anguis finally screamed in fury, rose to his feet and, throwing his arms to the ceiling, slammed all six pillars into the ceiling with force enough to imbed them into the stone. Veneficus smirked at the power of his apprentice, stopping to voltage of pain and stepping back as the boy raged, his newly forged deep connection to the Dark Side allowing waves of pure power to waft around him.

"Will… will I learn to torment my victims with lightning as well soon, Master?" Anguis asked, and Veneficus was pleased that his apprentice seemed to have grasped the point of the lesson, and was not fixated on the torture.

"In, due time, apprentice…" he replied cryptically, before turning to call forth one of the stone golems in the room, and handed Anguis a Lightsaber hilt that he had found in the manor, one that no one else owned or used. "Eventually you will construct your own lightsaber, but for now you will start learning how to use one with this."

With a look of reverence, Anguis lit the crimson blade and swung it experimentally, before commenting, "It's so light…"

Rather than point out the stupidity of the statement, Veneficus nodded, "Yes, and that's why it's so dangerous a weapon to use. You have just as equal the opportunity to hack off your own limb as your opponents without the proper skill and power in the Force to guide your movements." Anguis simply nodded, continuing to study the Jedi weapon.

Veneficus quickly ran through the basics of Shii-Cho with Anguis, sparred with him briefly with his own trophy saber from the Jedi he had killed, and set him to practicing with the golem, which recognized that it was not to try and kill its opponent and adjusted accordingly.

With his apprentice thus occupied, Veneficus set to relieving the rest of his pent up anger of the day's current events in the form of new Dark Art spells.

His Blackthorn wand practically leapt in his hand at the thought of casting dark magic, and by the end was vibrating with leftover power. Studying the thin piece of enchanted wood, Veneficus smiled as he felt the Dark Side swirl from the magical implement. By forcing his aptitude for the Dark Side through the wand when he was growing accustomed to it, the Sith Lord had created a tiny dark nexus in his wand. Not only would his wand respond to him easier than any other wand to its witch or wizard, but the wand itself would be stronger and last longer, just as Force users lived much longer than those who lacked the power.

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Zhar looked over the temperate and nearly peaceful appearing planet of Dathomir. He was relieved, to be honest, about the appearance of the planet. He had expected dense swamps or vast deserts that he'd have to trek through for miles, but this was nice. Following the route that Dass'in had provided him, Zhar chose to land in a small clearing that was about two or three klicks from the location of the hidden academy.

The Dorian Dark Side Prophet had explained that the world was dangerous, home to many ferocious creatures, but that he should meet little resistance after entering the academy, as all the Sith that had been stationed there died during the seventh battle of Ruusan. Zhar was inclined to think this was true, yet he had learned from the records at the Sith Temple that one Sith Lord had survived that terrible battle, Darth Bane, and reason lead him to believe that others may have survived. Therefore as he approached the cavernous opening that led down to the hidden academy, Zhar kept up his guard, lightsaber in hand.

Venturing into the darkness, Zhar chose to light his saber for illumination rather than use a glowrod, and eyed the many carvings and Sith hieroglyphics that lined the walls of the cave. Having learned a bit of the written language of the Sith from his time as a Jedi, Zhar was able to decipher some of the writings, which told him of the many exploits of key students and masters of the Dathmoiri academy.

A forewarning from the Force drew his attention back to his forward progress. Something or someone strong in the Dark Side was ahead, hiding in the shadows. Zhar closed his eyes, relying on the Force to guide him, stepping into an opening stance of Djem-So and waiting for his adversary to make him, her or itself known. High laughter filled the chamber as whomever it was arrived.

"Young Jedi need to be more careful when wandering the darker places of the Galaxy…" a cool female voice said, chilling Zhar's skin with the darkness in the voice. But he knew better, seeing past the show of power to pinpoint the location of the person. Only, he couldn't exactly feel out where his opponent was. The Dark Side of the Force clouded his view, giving who or whatever awaited him a considerable advantage.

"I do not fear the Darkness…" Zhar said, trying to goad this adversary into revealing herself, and he was rewarded by the high voice tinkling another laugh.

"You should, Jedi… you should…" without warning, and with a tiny puffing sound, Zhar was enveloped in a mist of greenish powder. Choking and half blind, Zhar staggered about, trying to escape the toxic cloud, but failed, falling to the ground in a daze. Blearily, the Dark Jedi saw a female Togruta emerge from the shadows, black and red markings covering her face, before unconsciousness took him.

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Darth Millennial stood, stripped to the waist, in his personal training facility built in the underground compound below Blackmoore Manor. Surrounding him were six high powered military grade blaster turrets, all powering up and set for rapid fire. Just as the devises chimed their readiness, Millennial ignited his crimson lightsaber, the programmed identifier for the turrets to fire. Launching himself into the opening volleys of blaster rounds, Millennial spun and ducked, springing into his perfected form of Soresu.

Amidst the hailstorm of deadly energy, the Sith Master moved both body and blade in perfect harmony, deflecting and dodging with seemingly effortless grace, all the while his powerful mind focusing intently of the future, past and present simultaneously. Few that Millennial had ever encountered could achieve this level of Moving Meditation, sinking so deeply into the Force that they nearly lost their conscious selves to its ebb and flow, resounding from the deepest recesses of the universe.

Sinking thus into the currents of the Force, thoughts and impressions came to Millennial unbidden, revealing the will of the Dark Side. The future stood before him, hinged upon the shoulders of the Sith, and time seemed frozen around his apprentice, Darth Veneficus, as though the boy was a nexus of the Force in and of himself. Considering all that Veneficus had accomplished in his seven short years of learning, Millennial was not as surprised as he should have been.

The boy had a natural lust for knowledge, especially anything of darkness, and talent enough to accomplish anything he set his mind to. Having quickly adapted to his new life as a Sith, the boy Harry Potter had melted away, until Millennial had been left with the raw talents to form and mold as the Force dictated.

Many Sith Lords of the past would have scorned Millennial as a heretic for his views, claiming that Sith needed to strive to dictate the will of the Force themselves, but Millennial clung stubbornly to his philosophy that they Force was sentient enough to overcome any attempts at manipulation by mere mortals. Naturally that did not stop the mutant Sith from poking and prodding fate, making subtle alterations to give himself and the Order of the Sith Lords the much needed edge, but he never presumed to totally control the nature of the Force.

The keen insight his abilities gave him was enough to show Millennial that trying to subject the unfathomable power of the Force was beyond his reach. So he settled for the same fate that the Masters of the Dark Side since Darth Bane had taken, tweaking and altering the future in many small ways to better prepare for the one Sith Lord who would wrench control from the Light, once and for all.

Millennial felt that he had found the one who was destined for that end. Lord Veneficus had the drive, and power, and the sinister mind to achieve the grand design of Darth Bane, striking from the shadows of the Republic's supposed 'Golden Age' and returning the Sith to their rightful place as rulers of the Galaxy. Even if Millennial didn't live to see it happen, he would rest easy in the Force to know that he had been the tipping point for the Galaxy's decent toward darkness.

The subjugation would begin here, on this rudimentary planet. The home world of Darth Veneficus would give him many advantages and powers that the Jedi would have great difficulty managing against, namely these wizards and their 'magic'. Wild and chaotic, the arcane energies complimented Veneficus greatly, and his efforts to delve into the so called 'Dark Arts' would prove to be his ultimate edge in combat. Millennial knew that he would be hard pressed himself to combat his apprentice when the time came, when the boy had grow fully into both his Force potential and his Magical majority.

There was only one thing clinging to Millennial's mind, one threat to the future he envisioned. The rumors of the false Dark Lord, Voldemort, and the magical energies that Millennial sensed from the madman's old followers, the cup they had taken from the vaults of Gringotts, and finally coming from the scar on Veneficus himself. Millennial had tried prior, unsuccessfully, to destroy the cup, blasting it with the power of the Dark Side and attempting to hack it apart with his Lightsaber. The cup had withstood every assault completely, and Millennial knew that this object's destruction was paramount to the protection of the Sith, little though he knew of exactly how or why.

Reaching out with his immensely heightened senses, Millennial felt that there were more of these objects across the country, and the Force whispered to him that collecting them together in one place was required of him. One was very near to him even now, aside from the cup. Visions of a rundown shack appeared in the mutant human's mind, just outside the nearby village of Little Hangleton. He would obey the urgings of the Force, even if they made no clear sense to him.

Perhaps, in being made of magical energies, these repositories of life energy were to be defeated by a magical means. Or else the will of the Force would be revealed to him in time. Millennial decided on patience for the time being, it had served the Sith Order well in the past, and would continue to in the future.

Emerging from his heavy trance, Millennial found himself drenched in sweat, blood pumping furiously through his veins. All six turrets were still firing, the clicks of their depleted energies cells echoing off the walls. Millennial had many small burns, caused by shallow grazes from minuscule dodged bolts, but was otherwise unharmed.

'Well,' Millennial thought as he pressed a button on the wall, opened a hatch and admitting several high class droids, rebuilt and programmed with Lightsaber combat techniques from several different master swordsmen of the Sith. Millennial saluted the droids as their many limbs ignited over a dozen different blades and thought, 'that's that for the warm-up.'

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Hermione was in her element, swept up in the fervor of the oncoming exams. She was currently barricaded in the library, surrounded by every book that contained any possible information they might be tested on, and was midway through her transfigurations notes when a shadow loomed right in the path of her light. She whipped around to tell whomever it was off, but froze when she saw the cold face of Harry Potter.

"Hello Hermione…" he said, taking a seat next to her without asking, and pushing a stack of books to the side to make room on the desk for himself. Hermione frowned, but opted to just politely ignore him while continuing with her studying.

Potter pulled from his bag a rather large and old-looking book that had no title, placing it on the desk in front of him, and opening to a back chapter. Hermione felt the irresistible urge to look over and see what the boy was reading, and struggled desperately to maintain her focus on her work.

"Interesting, isn't it," Potter began, startling Hermione slightly, "How there are hundreds of students here at Hogwarts, but now that the end of the year has come, and all are divided into a select number of groups in relation to the event…"

"Um… What do you mean?" Hermione said, genuinely confused. She was looking at Harry directly now, her notes forgotten. The Slytherin boy was calmly continuing to read his book, and spoke conversationally.

"I mean there are three distinct types of students when exams come. Those students, like you and many of the rest of your house, Ravenclaw, who throw yourselves into your work, striving to succeed until you do so."

Hermione nodded; there was a distinct group of students that were more bookish than others.

"Then," Harry continued, "There are those, like one Ronald Weasley, that choose to try and ignore that the exams are even there, scraping through at the last minute if passing at all…"

Hermione frowned, but could find nothing wrong with the statement.

"And finally," he continued with a small smile, "there are the students so gifted and powerful, that they need not lower themselves to worry about exams, students who have completely surpassed the need to study, students, like myself."

Now Hermione frowned completely, "So you've come to gloat then…"

Potter had the decency to look affronted at least, "No, you misunderstand me…" he said swiftly, "I mean to say there are definite classes of students, some better than others yes, however, what is the factor of each of us that determines what one kind of student, or person, one is? Is it the mind, the strength, the will of mankind that separates us from the animals, or each other even?"

Suddenly the Slytherin boy stood, closing the book with a snap. Hermione only caught a glimpse of a diagram of the human mind. "Just some things to think about Hermione," he said cryptically, "and as a final thought; if there are indeed castes of students, is there not to be expected to be a caste of all humans, some inseparable better than others?" with that he left without another word, leaving a confused and fatigued Hermione in the library with no desire to continue studying for the day.


	12. Chapter 9

******Well, here it is. the end of Veneficus' first year of Hogwarts. I will sadly be unable to post any chapter after this one until I return from my 15 month mission, but I will still be available to respond to reviews and private messages for any who wish to keep in contact. Thank you all for your comments, they were very helpful and inspiring. I mean, 6000+ people reading this story in a single month. I find that to be most impressive! please continue to review admirably so that upon my return I can continue to post excellent chapter to advance this story!**

**Chapter Nine**

**Stone of the Alchemist**

Severus glanced across the vacant classroom for what felt like the twentieth time, staring at the rooms only other occupant, Harry bloody Potter. The boy was calmly dissecting frog brains, dropping the various bits into brine filled jars for storage. Most students hated these kinds of detentions, but Potter seemed completely unaffected. Severus figured it was the remnants of the boy's vile father in him, allowing him to shrug off any sort of punishment without a second thought.

Severus had to admit, however, that the boy was indeed unlike what he himself had expected. A Slytherin, first off, instead of a fool hearty Gryffindor like James, and very intelligent like his mother. Even Severus was hard pressed to find any fault in Potter's work, in class or otherwise. The rest of the teachers were thinking academic genius, and loath as he was to admit it, Severus agreed. And unlike the muggle born Granger, Potter felt no need to rub his brilliance in the face of the rest of the school.

And it wasn't even just the resemblances or lack thereof to his parents, but even things that Albus had predicted that the boy would do or be had fallen far short of the truth. Albus had sounded so sure when he said that Potter would come to school friendless and desperate for acceptance. While the former was partially true, it seemed to Severus that the boy couldn't truly care less what others thought of him, especially when he seemed to control the majority of the students around him regardless of their thoughts about him as a person.

The nagging feeling that Severus should have known something about Potter returned full force, and silently the Potions Master cursed the mysterious removal of his memories. As if able to hear his thoughts, the brat looked up with a self-righteous smirk, as if he was enjoying every minute of his detention. Severus frowned; this had not been what he had intended.

Throwing caution to the wind, Severus stood and strode over to Potter work station, examining the perfectly segmented parts of frog brain, and sending a subtle probe of legilimency, Severus decided to get some answers, "You lived with your Aunt and Uncle prior to coming to Hogwarts, is that correct Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, a long time ago," Potter responded, a bored expression crossing his face as he dropped a piece in the brine.

"How long ago?" Severus queried, still testing the mental defenses of the child. They were impressive for one so young, but Severus felt, if needed, he could breach them with a little effort.

"Seven years or so now…" Potter responded, scratching the back of his head in annoyance.

"And the reason you no longer live with them?" Severus continued, curious now. Albus had only recently discovered that the Dursleys had been dead for years, and a Muggle murder investigation had found nothing as to the cause of their deaths or the identity of the person or persons responsible.

"They got sick of me and sent me to an orphanage, because I was a wizard. Not that they ever tolerated me in the first place." Potter said, anger evident in his voice. "I was never anything more than an embarrassment and a burden on them. I was glad to leave, just as I'm glad that they're dead. They deserved it."

Severus was startled by the pure rage that was buried beneath the statement. He knew from personal experience that Petunia Dursley nee Evans was a horrid woman, married beneath herself, and spawned a despicable child, as he actually read Arabella Figg's reports that Albus only glossed over. He knew somewhat about the starvation, the beatings, and everything else.

"So, you found your current guardian in the orphanage?" if anything, Potter seemed to grow angrier rather than calm down at the thought of his current guardian, "He found me," he said simply.

Severus didn't like the cold anger that filled the room when Potter spoke those words, but could not bring himself to pursue the topic, so, letting the matter drop for the time being, Severus released the boy from his detention and returned to grading essays. Not until after the boy left, did the normal amount of heat return to the dungeon classroom, remote though it was.

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Veneficus went straight for the common room after being released by Snape, bypassing Anguis as he directed his gaze on Theodore Nott. The weedy boy blanched as the Sith Lord approached, and quickly moved to the dormitory, all but abandoning the conversation he was having with Blaise Zabini, who looked rather annoyed from Nott's sudden departure. Veneficus followed, both closing and magically locking the door behind him.

"You know what I'm here for Nott…" he said without preamble, "Did you and Boot have any success with my project."

Nott swallowed hard before nodding, bent over his trunk and removed an exact duplicate of Veneficus comlink and holoprojector, except Veneficus could feel them buzzing with magic. Taking the tools from his servant, Veneficus inspected his and Terrance Boot's work, deeming it acceptable and pocketing the devices. "You both have my thanks," he said, "Now I have one other assignment for you both, to accomplish at you leisure."

Picking up a black leather bound book, he handed the tome to Nott, "I want you and Boot to read through this volume, research the contents, and also anything you both feel would help me understand curse scars and what I can expect to experience from this," he pointed to the lightning shaped cut on his brow.

"As you command… my Lord." Nott said, bowing at the waist against his will.

"Good…" Veneficus said before turning to his trunk, muttering a password in Parseltongue, the language of serpents he discovered himself gifted with a natural affinity for years ago, and recovered Darth Zeemar's Holocron. Departing quickly, and stopping only to collect his apprentice, Veneficus followed the shortest route up to the seventh floor, by means of his ingenious map he had procured from the Weasley twins. He wondered fleetingly if they had discovered it missing yet, but dismissed the idea as beneath his care as he opened the secret room.

Lord Anguis set off to continue training with his Lightsaber, and Veneficus chose an area well secluded from the main part of the room, sat cross legged on the stone floor, and activated the ancient Sith Lord's archived knowledge. It flared to life, and the gatekeeper appeared, and after recognizing Veneficus and that they were alone, lowered the hood of his robes.

"_You have returned, then…_" Darth Zeemar said, face tentacles twitching as the Pureblooded Sith regarded him with blood red eyes.

"I have, My Lord." Veneficus replied, "I have come for my next lesson."

Veneficus had long since proceeded past the Holocron's mandatory history lessons, passing the tests that granted access to the deeper secrets of the Dark Side. Many secrets were still barred to him, however, so he continued to play the Gate Keepers games, for the time being, until he had all the knowledge for himself.

"_The next level of teaching I have for you, young apprentice, requires for you to commit an act that will garner the attention of the Force itself, something so diabolic and truly vile that you corrupt the very Force energy around you. Do this, and you will have grown strong enough to begin learning the deep secrets of the Sorcerers of the Dark Side._"

Veneficus huffed, irritated that he could not learn these new techniques immediately, but realized that his task was far easier than it would normally be, given what the Holocron demanded. He had a full forest of creatures to choose from right outside the castle, and one type in particular was considered so good and pure that to slay one was the darkest act of evil. Smirking to himself, Veneficus allowed the Holocron to deactivate, stowing the palm-sized pyramid away before departing immediately. He had a few hours left before curfew, as Snape had foolishly given him detention at midday on a weekend, allowing him time afterward to do as he wished.

He only stopped to acquire his blood father's old Invisibility cloak from his trunk before stealthily exiting the castle. Using the Force to increase his mobility and speed, Veneficus dashed across the grounds, staying out of sight of most of the towers and windows, before darting into the trees on the edge of the forbidden forest.

The forest was black and silent as Veneficus moved from tree to tree, pausing to listen and sweep the immediate area with the Force for signs of life. Utilizing a trick he observed from the Jedi he killed over the vacation and was in the process of mastering, Veneficus used the Force to shroud himself from being detected; pulling it around himself like the physical cloak that hid him from physical view.

It was slow going, delving into the depths of the Dark Forest, and was several hours before the Sith Lord had any sign of his quarry. He had already seen several centaurs, a few acromantulas, and several skeletal horses he recognized as thestrals before sighting a single unicorn.

A flash of silver glinted from the moon overhead, and Veneficus saw the creature of pure light, only moments before it started galloping away. Without a second thought, and only with the Force to hide him from the denizens of the forest, Veneficus tore after it, stowing the cloak as he ran. Fast though the creature was, Veneficus slowly was gaining ground, vaulting over low bushes and ledges, ducking and twisted low hanging branches.

Finally, as he got in range, Veneficus leap the last yards, dropping his illusion in the Force and reaching out at the pure white horse. A terrified whinny was all that escaped the unicorn before the full power of the Dark Side took it, knocking it from its hooves and pinning it in place. Veneficus landed, robes billowing in the generated puff of air as he hit the ground, and strode over to the fallen unicorn.

The creature was frantic, struggling with its might to free itself from the unseen powers that held it. Veneficus stared at the bluish eyes of the unicorn, observed the sentience of the creature, and the purity there. It sickened him. Both hands flew outward, pelting the white coat with blue lightning, throwing cruel shadows on the surrounding trees. A strangle whinny of terror and pain filled the night air, but Veneficus allowed his prey its final screams, letting the power of his hatred, hatred for his first family, hatred for his Masters, hatred for his lot in life, flow through him into the pitiful creature, letting his pain become its pain.

Relenting for a moment, Veneficus spoke to the doomed unicorn, "If you and your kind are so powerful, why do you squander such power in the service of beings lesser than you?"

Receiving no answer, Veneficus frowned, before resuming the slow, agonizing death of the once proud unicorn. Finally, as the dying creature convulsed on the ground, Veneficus reached out, guided purely by the Dark Side, seized the energy left within the unicorn with the Force, and ripped it from the creature's body, long tendrils of life, magical, and residual Force energy leaping from the soon to be corpse and back into Veneficus, rejuvenating and strengthening him. As the last breath of the unicorn left the world, Veneficus felt the dynamic shift in the surrounding area. The air seemed to still, and the Sith Lord saw the very ground immediately surrounding the unicorn's body start to die, as if all life was slowly being snuffed out of the clearing.

He had done it. He, Darth Veneficus, had slain a creature of the most purest light, and in doing so, created a nexus of total darkness; a place where the Dark Side would be forever strong. Kneeling in the clearing, Veneficus opened himself to the Force fully, allowing its power to wash over and through him. He felt it, the power he had created, distinct and separate from his own, and he consumed it. Reaching out with his newfound abilities, he wrenched the darkness from the clearing, pouring it into himself, filling a vat within himself that had no bottom.

In that moment, Darth Veneficus felt completely one with the Dark Side of the Force, able to see beyond seeing. He could sense the many eyes on him, centaurs from the many clans drawn to the death of a unicorn, and another being, familiar and yet not so, a dark being, who drifted away as soon as he realized he was no longer hidden. But none of these made the Dark Lord of the Sith worry for his own safety, for he was currently beyond their power, enveloped in the very essence of the land around him, siphoning off the darkness and growing beyond himself.

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Zhar awoke with a throbbing headache, in a torch lit room he did not recognize. Staggering to his feet, Zhar attempted to find an exit, only to be stopped by a ray shield surrounding his makeshift cell. So, with nothing better to do, Zhar waited, sitting on the ground and struggling to meditate until his captor arrived.

The high cackle announced the Togruta's arrival, "Is the itty bitty Jedi warm and comfy in the room I provided for him," she giggled.

'Great,' Zhar thought, 'a Sith and insane, just perfect.'

Spying his lightsaber on the Togruta's belt, and the panel that he assumed would release him from his prison; Zhar chose to pretend to ignore the ranting female, stretching out with the Force.

"Oh, is the wittal Jedi thinking of escaping from Lady Nuhok, I think not!" the Sith Lady laughed, before activating the torture settings of the cell. Zhar trembled from the volts of electricity as they shot through him, but did not cry out, which seemed to annoy Nuhok. "Aw, the Jedi doesn't want to scream. Well, that's alright, we have all the time in the world until Lord Kaan contacts the academy again, after defeating the rest of your Army of Light ha ha!"

The pain was excruciating, and grew worse every time Zhar tried to concentrate. Sinking within himself, Zhar tapped into the Dark Side, thinking the words of the Sith Code that he had read so long ago in the tombs of Korriban. _Peace is a lie, there is only Passion. Through Passion I gain Strength, Through Strength I gain Power, through Power I gain Victory_… the pain started to dull as his mind grew clear, and he reached, crushing the controls to the cell and ripping his saber from the woman's belt. Rising to his full height as the field lowered, he activated his blade and charged the infuriating Togruta. Orange met red as their deadly dance began.

Lady Nuhok screamed, launching into a complex series of spins, kicks and vicious swipes. Zhar was hard put to keep ahead of her weapon, swatting and stabbing at her and her blade to gain every inch of ground toward the exit of the room. Their blades caught, and suddenly it changed to a battle of strength, a contest that Zhar knew he held the advantage, the demanding physique that the Djem-So form required ensured it.

Planting his footing, Zhar heaved with all his might, forcing the Togruta's blade back towards her, reaming as unmovable and steadfast as stone. Nuhok was forced to retreat, breaking the lock and rolling, returning to her feet just inside the doorway.

"You should have known better," Zhar taunted, "than to allow me out, Togruta, and now my Sith Masters will be pleased when I defeat you."

Lady Nuhok widened her eyes in shock, and that was exactly the moment that Zhar struck, landing several large arching blows meant to cleave through defenses and flesh. But the infuriating Sith shifted to the defense, parrying and dodging every attack as she switched to the flowing barrier of Soresu. Zhar _hated_ fighting the pure defensive form. Having no obvious choice in the matter, he pressed the attack, feinting and stabbing, slashing and kicking, driving the Togruta before him, but not one attack made contact with her skin.

She was losing what remained of her mind, muttering and growling to herself. Zhar was surprised to see that his one comment had shaken her far more than he had intended. "No… this cannot be, Kaan wouldn't try to kill me, he cares, he respected me… that's why I was given this academy, I was trusted! But if then, why not, the old fool would want my power… he won't have it I tell you! I'll kill you, take your ship and hunt Kaan down myself! Then I will run the Brotherhood of Darkness, the Jedi be damned!"

"You're mad woman!" Zhar yelled at over, side stepping a counter attack that would have cut him cleanly in two, "Kaan and his brotherhood have been dead for nearly a century. Your masters are no more, and the Sith have move on."

She froze, seemingly unable to compute the information. "No…" she said softly, "That cannot be, you're lying to me. You are Jedi, you can't be telling me the truth. Yet, no new students for so long… No word… No anything… and you… you're no Jedi… you are Sith…"

Zhar knew she was defeated the minute she recognized him as an ally. Deactivating his weapon, he stored it away and waited. The madwoman was still piecing the puzzle together, looking at Zhar with a mixture of confusion and admiration.

"If what you say is true, human, then why haven't the Sith come sooner?" she asked at last.

"That," Zhar replied, now breathing heavily from their duel, "Is a very long story…"

"Well I, Dark Lady Ocraadi Nuhok of the Dathomir Academy, have all the time in the Galaxy to hear it young Sith…" she said, an eerie smile on her face.

Zhar felt it might have been better to simply kill her as he began to retell the current events of the Galaxy…

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Padawan Septin watched as Master Ta-Ras-Min steered their Skyspirit Courier ship away from the planet Zygerria. Personally, Septin couldn't have been gladder to leave the slaver world, after the ordeal that he and his master had had to get the information they had come for and leave safely.

The first part of their mission had been simple, just asking around at different spaceports and cantinas until one barman had mentioned someone fitting Quelmok's description leaving his cantina with a female Twi'lek several weeks ago. Unfortunately, in their following of the trail the two had taken, Septin had run afoul of a pair of Zygerrian Slavers, who felt that a Jedi Slave would be the perfect gift for a local noble.

They had taken Septin, drugging him with a toxic dart, and Master Ta-Ras-Min had had to scour the planet for him, finally ending in a violent confrontation with the noble and his bodyguards; now they had finally escaped, and Septin never wished to set foot on Zygerria as long as he lived.

At least they had found the tracking number of the ship that Quelmok had left the planet on, and were, with the help of the scattered Republic security fleets, able to scour numerous parts of the Galaxy for the ship at once.

Currently, they were making their way toward the Telos system, in preparation to take the Hydian Way hyperspace route back to the core worlds. Septin was currently practicing with a pair of remotes, defecting blaster bolts around the room with his green lightsaber. Across the empty passenger area, Master Ta-Ras-Min was meditating, floating almost two feet from the deck.

Taking a moment to watch his Master, Septin frowned slightly at the aloofness he felt from her towards him, as if the Cerean didn't want to risk the emotional attachment of actually training her Padawan, should she lose him as she lost Zhar Quelmok. Septin was rewarded for his momentary lapse in concentration with a stun bolt in the leg, shocking him badly and numbing his entire limb so that he fell to the deck.

"You lack focus, Padawan," Ta-Ras-Min said calmly, not even breaking from her meditation.

Septin didn't respond from the rebuke, slightly annoyed that his Master could be so apathetic regarding him. 'Maybe that's why Quelmok left in the first place…' he thought bitterly.

"Your thoughts betray you," Master Min continued, "Quelmok left the order not because of anything but his own greed and lust for secrets better left alone. Remember the Jedi Code my Padawan, There is no Emotion…"

"There is Peace," Septin finished, signing inwardly and rising back to his feet. His leg ached slightly, and he pulled the remote to him to shut it off. Just then, the communications console chimed, and a Republic Naval officer appeared. Master Min ceased her meditations and went to the holoprojector. "Master Jedi," the officer said, "our outer rim patrol fleets have reported the discovery of the ship with the same registration code that you posted us to watch for."

"Good work lieutenant," Master Min responded, "What system was the ship found in?"

"The Dathomir System, Master Jedi." The officer responded, and Master Min nodded sadly.

"I see, thank you for all your work for the Galaxy, Master Ta-Ras-Min out." And with that the Cerean shut off the comm. unit.

"Master?" Septin asked, worried slightly. He did not like the look on his Master's face.

"We are going to Dathomir." She replied, "A world heavy in the Dark Side. I feared that Zhar would take this path. If we continue on our current course, we will pass right by the system, and it would be a short detour before returning to the Temple to inform the council in person of our mission's success…"

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Lord Voldemort could sense the nearness of the Sorcerer's Stone. He and Quirrell had waiting until the near end of the school year to attempt to remove it, especially with that Beast of Rubeus' guarding the first room. Once they discovered the means of passing it, Voldemort was angry with not only Quirrell, but also himself for not recognizing the simplicity of the challenge.

After the Cerberus, bypassing the remainder of the guardians was child's play. Now, the only thing standing in his way to immortality and the return of his body was a tall mirror, gilded in gold. Foolish Quirrell had no idea how the mirror worked, and Voldemort wouldn't admit that Dumbledore had him stumped for the moment, but it would not matter. The old fool was on his way to London, under a false message from the Ministry, and wouldn't be back for hours. He had all the time in the world to figure out this final test and claim his prize.

He was pulled from his thoughts, however, but a cold voice coming from the only entrance to this chamber. "Well, I was wondering if we would encounter each other before I claimed the stone for myself.

Quirrell whirled around, and Voldemort watched from the reflecting in the mirror, as Harry Potter, the foolish 'savior' of the wizarding world, entered the torchlight. "As did I, Mr. Potter, I knew you would be a troublesome thorn in my side in the end, despite my attempts to dispose of you."

"The Troll, and the Bludger, as well as stalking around in the forest…" Potter said dryly, examining his hand as he spoke, as if Quirrell was beneath him.

"Very good Potter, yes, but those attempts were unsuccessful, but no matter, no matter. I will deal with you after I've had a chance to examine this interesting mirror." Voldemort felt the world move again as Quirrell turned his back on the boy. "You Fool!" Voldemort warned, but too late.

Blue-white lightning launched into Quirrell's back, crackling and sparking in the dimly lit room. "Oh, I'm sorry," Potter said snidely, even as more electricity poured from his extended fingertips, "but am I breaking your concentration?!"

Voldemort was stunned, and even as he felt pain from his host, the very sight before him dulled him to it. Able to see perfectly through the inside of the turban that the foolish Quirrell insisted on wearing, the Dark Lord had a perfect view of the boy's face, filled with hatred and his eyes glowing a vibrant gold-orange.

Quirrell fell to his knees, and only then did Potter end the spell he was casting, "A little rest? Perhaps for you Quirrell, but the rest I shall grant you shall be permanent…"

"M-Master…" Quirrell moaned, "Help me!"

Voldemort chose this moment to finally announce himself. "Let me speak to him…"

Quirrell didn't hesitate, unwrapping the purple cloth from around his head until Voldemort was revealed fully to the misguided Potter.

"Harry Potter…" he said, "We meet again…"

"My, my, if it isn't the great 'Lord' Voldemort, back from the dead." The insolent boy taunted.

"Don't be a fool, boy," Voldemort chided, "You have talent, and great power. Join me, and we will do extraordinary things… but first you will help me get the Stone…"

Potter approached, seeming to be weighing his options, until he was next to Quirrell, looking at the mirror. A smile broke the boy's face, and then he laughed.

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Veneficus laughed, his high voice ringing around the room. His reflection in the enchanted mirror smirked back, pulling a blood red stone from his pocket to reflect the torchlight, and finally replacing it. Veneficus felt the weight pass from the mirror to his own real pocket. He hadn't even really wanted to use the Stone yet, just acquire it to prevent Voldemort and prepare his future.

"What is it, what do you see?" Quirrell said hurriedly, thinking that Veneficus was even considering an alliance with him or his decrepit master. In one quick movement, Veneficus twisted, the blue blade of his Lightsaber activating as he spun, impaling the foolish Defense Professor in the chest. With a gasp, Quirrell died, surprise and pain etched on his face as he fell, stone dead.

"I ally with no one. The Dark Side is my only Master, fool." Veneficus said to the corpse, before turning back to the mirror. Now that he had the stone, the mirror was tantalizing him with visions of the glory of his own Sith Empire, reborn from the ashes of the Republic. Rolling his eyes at the illusion, Veneficus took from an inside pocket the fake stone he had created from a piece of parchment, throwing it down hard onto the stone floor. The crystallized stone shattered into thousands of pieces, spreading over the floor and around Quirrell's fallen body.

"_Nooooooooooooo_!" an unearthly shriek filled the room, and Veneficus spun just in time to see a ghostly face slam right through his body, leeching energy from him and causing an unexpected blackness to surround him. The Sith's last thought is how disappointed his Master would be if he knew how badly Veneficus had allowed his triumph to blind him.

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Albus smiled down at young Harry Potter as the boy stirred from sleep. The boy had been unconscious in the Hospital Wing for nearly three days, no doubt drained from his fight with Quirrell over the Stone. Albus smiled as he thought of the scene he had encountered as he arrived in the room that had housed the Mirror of Erised; Quirrell dead and reduced to ashes from the removal of Voldemort's spirit from him, and Harry, unconscious but clinging to life, amid the shattered remains of the Stone. The loss of Nicholas and his wife was sad, yes, but necessary to prevent Voldemort from an easy and quick return to the physical world. 'All for the greater good, as Gellert would have said,' Albus thought, just as Harry's eyes finally opened.

"Good afternoon, Harry," Albus said as the boy stared at him.

"How long have I been here," he asked immediately, looking around the Infirmary. Albus frowned at the abruptness, and rather rude method that the boy was communicating with him, but decided to ignore it for now. "Nearly three days. Mr. Malfoy and several of your other classmates have been around to check on you rather often. They have been extremely worried."

Harry huffed in mild annoyance, causing Albus to furrow his brow in worry. It as if… No it couldn't be, but it seemed that Harry didn't even care about his own friends. Albus blinked, ridding himself of the undesirable thought. Slytherin thought Harry may be, he must have at least had loyalty to friends.

"Is there a reason your actually here Headmaster?" Harry asked suddenly, catching Albus off guard.

"Well, I was just concerned about your welfare, Harry," Albus backtracking, "And, given what you must have gone through, to answer any questions you might have…"

"In that case," Harry said, and Albus could sense the repressed irritation, "I really don't have any questions, or any wish to discuss what happened down the third floor. I'd really rather put it behind me, don't you agree Headmaster?"

"Well, Harry…" Albus said, disappointed at the lack of respect the boy gave to him, "I will bid you a good day then, and hope that I see you at the feast tomorrow."

"We'll see…" Harry said as Albus crossed the Infirmary and exited with a quick look back, Albus nearly faltered. Harry was glaring, and the vibrant green had left his eyes, transformed into the bright orange of someone infested with dark magic.

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Veneficus was ready to leave Hogwarts by the time the farewell feast had begun, and suffered through Dumbledore's final speech before digging into the grand amount of food that was prepared by the Hogwarts elves. He had returned just before the feast, and was looking as pleased as ever, though he did not share with his apprentice why he was in the third floor corridor in the first place, let alone what made him so pleased about it.

Slytherin won the house cup, continuing their long chain of victories. But Veneficus' mind was elsewhere. He was avidly awaiting the return to Blackmoore Manor, constructing the Lightsaber he had finally decided upon, and getting back into full swing of his training for the day he would take upon himself the mantle of Sith Master. Hopefully Darth Millennial would take him out into the wider Galaxy again; he had always enjoyed getting away from his sorely underdeveloped home world.

As Dumbledore sat, Veneficus caught the old man gazing at him over his goblet, and the blue eyes sparkled. Suddenly, without any hint of warning, Veneficus felt a foreign presence trying to pry into his mind. His rudimentary skills in the wizard art of Occlumency were no match for Dumbledore's attack, so Veneficus was left with no choice but to retaliate with the Force. Reaching out swiftly, he clenched his hand under the table. Up at the Staff table, the great Albus Dumbledore began to choke. Gasping madly, the old man broke off his metal invasion and grasped at his throat. On either side, teachers were getting up hurrying to help the aged fool. Snape pointed his wand, obviously thinking that the Headmaster was suffering under natural causes, and Veneficus released the blasted wizard, not wanting to cause a panic by strangling the man to death in front of so many witnesses.

Unfortunately, with his airway clear, the old man was looking unusually pale and stern for the situation, and Veneficus feared the worst. The old man was on to him as of this moment. Looking away, Veneficus went back to his meal, and after the feast was almost the first of the Slytherins back to the common room.

No one came that evening to stop him from leaving, so Veneficus was able to depart on the train with all the other students, sitting quietly as the rest of the first year Slytherins around him chatted, and Anguis looked at him with a more puzzled glance now and then. Veneficus was pleased with the boy's progress over the year. Draco Malfoy, now Lord Anguis had changed from a witless child, unaware of the greater world around him, into a fledgling Sith, his mind and body being toned and warped by both the Dark Side and Veneficus' influence.

Where once the boy may have grown to be a spoiled uncaring brat, he was now cold, ruthless, and willing to do whatever was needed for what he wanted. Of course, he had not had the training that Veneficus himself had had, but given the circumstance, Veneficus was sure he would do nearly anything for his master at this point, aside from the fact that to disobey would kill him.

They arrived in London with little incident. Ever the fool, Ronald Weasley had chosen to slam into Veneficus on the way off the train, and the Sith Lord had taken the opportunity to trip the red headed child, sending him face first onto the hard stone of the platform. Laughing with the crowd of Slytherins, Veneficus took his leave, nodding to Lucius Malfoy as his apprentice left his side, and joined with Neophyte Kelrek outside in the muggle side of the station.

Apparently the Neophytes had been busy in their Master's service, as Kelrek pulled the keys to a muggle automobile out of his pocket as they departed, pulling the transport out and driving back to the manor with the greatest ease.


End file.
